spicy wild coho salmon; tomatillo, red onion, herbs, lemon

The entrée was going to be a pasta or or a frittata, and then I saw the wild salmon inside the display case.

  • one fresh (unfrozen ) 8-ounce wild Coho salmon fillet from Whole Foods Market, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, the broader two surfaces pressed with a mixture of ground coriander seeds, ground cloves, ground cumin, and grated nutmeg, sautéed over medium-high heat for a few minutes on each side in an enameled, cast iron oval pan, finished on the plate with a little squeeze of organic lemon from Whole Foods Market and a drizzle of a good olive oil
  • wild watercress from Dave Harris’s Max Creek Hatchery in the Union Square Greenmarket, drizzled with a good olive oil, Alce Nero DOP ‘Terra di Bari Bitonto’ from Eataly

The bowl of tomatillos had been resting inside the refrigerator under a paper towel for a while; this seemed the perfect time to break them out. They were still crunchy, and deliciously bittersweet.

  • a decent amount of tomatillo from Lucky Dog Organic Farm, chopped, tossed in a little olive oil with one sliced spring red onion from N.J. Jersey Farm Produce, Inc. in the 23rd Street Saturday Farmers Market; lovage from Keith’s Farm; oregano blossoms from Norwich Meadows Farm; organic lemon zest and juice from Whole Foods Market; sea salt; freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper; and a generous pinch of fenugreek
  • the wine was a California (Sonoma) red, ROX Scott Peterson Pinot Noir Sonoma Coast, from Naked Wines
  • the music was Yle streaming

insalata caprese; fennel-grilled tuna; grilled eggplant, mint

There were to be guests, and there would be 3 courses. The only other instructions I gave myself were to serve local seafood, and to see that everything could be prepared easily enough for me to be a part of the conversation, and their first visit to/tour of our apartment.

We began the evening nibbling on some breadsticks, walking around with glasses of a sparkling wine part of the time.

 

The antipasto was an insalata Caprese

  • the salad was assembled with sliced heirloom tomatoes from Norwich Meadows Farm, arranged on 4 plates, alternating on each with slices of some very fresh ‘mozzarella classica’ from Eataly and leaves of fresh basil plants 100 feet away from the kitchen, inside the garden of our own Chelsea Gardens (can’t get much more ‘local’, but I should have picked a little more this time), sprinkled with Maldon salt and coarsely-ground Tellicherry pepper, drizzled with a great Puglian olive oil, Alce Nero DOP ‘Terra di Bari Bitonto’ from Eataly
  • slices of Rustica Classica from Eataly

 

The main course was dominated (barely, because of the great vegetable with which I was able to accompany it) by some of the freshest and most beautiful tuna steak I had ever put onto the table.

In preparing the tuna I did the same thing I normally do: It’s a recipe would intrude little on the taste of the steaks themselves, and it meant the entire course could be assembled and cooked in about 10 minutes (the vegetables could be done ahead).

  • four 6-ounce tuna steaks from Pura Vida Seafood in the Union Square Greenmarket, rubbed, tops and bottoms, with a mixture of a wonderful dry Sicilian fennel seed from Buon Italia that had been crushed in a mortar and pestle along with a little dried peperoncino Calabresi secchi from Buon Italia, the tuna also seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper before the steaks were pan-grilled above a medium-high flame (for only a little more than a minute or so on each side), finished on the plates with a good squeeze of the juice of an organic lemon from Whole Foods Market, and seved with a bit of micro fennel from Windfall Farms, some olive oil drizzled on top of both the fish and the fennel

 

The vegetables could be, and were, prepared ahead of time – including the grilling  (they taste at least as good at room temperature as they do warm).

  • eight small eggplants (5 different kinds, including an orange ‘Turkish’ variety from Norwich Meadows Farm, the others from Alewife Farm), each cut horizontally into 2 or 3 slices, mixed with a little olive oil, a 2 finely-chopped garlic cloves from Norwich Meadows Farm, sea salt, and freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, pan-grilled on an enameled cast iron ribbed pan over a brisk flame, turning once or twice, sprinkled with chopped peppermint leaves, again from Norwich Meadows Farm, drizzled with a bit of olive oil

 

 

The dessert course was the simplest of all, especially because the really good local (Brooklyn) ice cream was store-bought, and I had made the sauce some days before.

lemon/thyme marinated dolphin, leeks; sautéed cucumber

It’s a wonderful fish; they all are, at least those we’ve figured out make good eating (but, yes, all of the others are wonderful as well).

I had served dolphin 4 times before; each time the fish seemed more delicious than before, and so it was last Wednesday (August 16).

I love cucumbers in any form. This time they were sautéed.

Just about halfway through the meal, there was some unplanned excitement: a stack of 2 large mixing bowls and a sugar bowl came crashing down from the top of the refrigerator. But Barry was saved!  He had been standing directly at the site, fetching cold water, and so he incurred a few minor bruises and cuts on his lower limbs.

After we dressed his wounds, we both recovered and finished a really good meal, waiting until afterwards to clean up the mess.

But dinner really was good.

  • two fillets of local dolphinfish, or orata, or dorade [it appears on this list of local ‘exotics’ with the Hawaiian name, ‘Mahi-Mahi’], about 15 ounces altogether, from Blue Moon Fish, dry-marinated for 30 minutes or so with more than half a tablespoon of zest from an organic lemon from Whole Foods Market, an equal amount of chopped thyme leaves from Stokes Farm, sea salt, and freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, seared inside a hot heavy, oval copper fish pan for about 3 minutes, skin side up, then turned over, the second side seared for about the same length of time, the heat lowered and the pan loosely covered for a very few minutes with aluminum foil, which was then removed and some thin-ish slices of very small French Leeks from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm and a bit of dried golden-orange habanada pepper were introduced and very briefly sautéed along with the fish before it was removed along with the alliums and the pepper onto 2 plates, the now richly-savory pan juices poured over the top of the fish, a sliced small orange-red heirloom tomato from Norwich Meadows Farm placed as a garnish on each side of each of the fillets
  • white-fleshed ‘Boothby’ cucumbers from Willow Wisp Farm, cut lengthwise, sautéed inside a large seasoned heavy cast iron pan with a little olive oil, over a medium-high flame, turning the cucumbers twice and adding one sliced small spring red onion from N.J. Jersey Farm Produce, Inc., in the 23rd Street Saturday Greenmarket, near the end, sprinkling the cucumbers with sea salt each time they were turned, removed once the cucumbers had begun to carbonize on each side successively, a pinch of fenugreek added just before they were placed on the plates, where they were sprinkled with lovage from Keith’s Farm
  • the wine was a California (Lodi) white, David Akiyoshi Reserve Chardonnay 2015, from Naked Wines
  • the music was from the same album enjoyed the night before, the Deutsche Grammophon/DGG album, ‘haydn, “sturm” und “drang”, paris & london symphonies’, the works performed by the  Orchestra Of The Age Of the Enlightenment, and the Orchestra of the Eighteenth Century, Frans Brüggen conducting both; this time the works were Haydn’s Symphonies No. 49, 50, and 43

red fife pasta, duck bacon, onion, cardoon, mint; cheese

Thinking about what might be the best way to use the extra, cardoons I had prepared but not used in this meal on Monday, the answer seemed simple: Pasta!

I was concerned about the bitterness of the [thistle stems], as I mentioned in the post describing that meal; I suspected the pasta would dilute most, if not all of it, and it did. And it was good.

  • eight slices (4 ounces) of duck bacon from Hudson Valley Duck Company in the Union Square Greenmarket, cut into 1/4 inch segments, sautéed in a little olive oil inside a large, heavy, high-sided, tin-lined copper pot until the fat began to render, removed, set aside, and replaced in the pot by 2 thick scallions from Alex’s Tomato Farm, in the 23rd Street Saturday farmers market, and a section of a dried orange/gold habanada pepper, heated until the onion had softened, followed by a couple handfuls of cardoons that had been boiled and drained on Monday and placed in the refrigerator, the cardoons sautéed until beginning to caramelize, at which time 9 ounces of Sfoglini red fife blend zucca, cooked al dente, was tossed into the pot, with some of the reserved pasta cooking water, stirred over medium heat until the sauce had been emulsified, chopped peppermint from from Phillips Farms added and mixed into the pasta, which was then arranged inside low bowls, sprinkled with a little more chopped mint, drizzled with olive oil, and finished with a generous amount of freshly-grated Parmigiano-Reggiano Vache Rosse from Eataly
  • the wine was a California (grapes from 3 regions, North Coast, Lodi and Clarksburg) rosé, Evangelos Bagias California Rosé 2016, from Naked Wines

There was also a cheese course.

  • three cheeses from Consider Bardwell Farm: a blue goat; ‘Manchester’, also goat; and ‘Pawlet’, a cow cheese
  • thin toasts from 2 different several-days-old breads, a small Pugliese roll and a classic French baguette, both from Whole Foods Market
  • the wine with the cheese was a California (Lodi) white, F. Stephen Millier Angels Reserve Pinot Grigio Lodi 2016, also from Naked Wines

 

  • the music throughout the meal was from the Deutsche Grammophon/DGG album, ‘haydn, “sturm” und “drang”, paris & london symphonies’, the pieces performed by the  Orchestra Of The Age Of the Enlightenment, and the Orchestra of the Eighteenth Century, Frans Brüggen conducting both; the symphonies we listened to were Nos. 47, 46, and 26

‘gilded’ hake, sage, parsley; cardoons, garlic, bread crumbs

I was pretty excited to find cardoons in the Greenmarket on Monday. The excitement continued all the way through its several cooking processes – even while working inside a very warm and humid kitchen – and it survived the entire meal.

Barry, who is crazy about artichokes, which are related to cardoons (both are thistles) was less enthusiastic, because he thought they were too bitter, even after some extended boiling and sautéing (“a bit like eating only the outermost leaves of an artichoke”). I think I have a higher tolerance for weird, medicinal, or bitter flavors (it’s why Barry is almost always the one who tests the wine).

The recipe I used asked for mushrooms. I didn’t have any, although had I known I could have easily brought some home from Union Square. I was reasonably confident I could do without them, and with most recipes that would be possible, but here their presence would probably have moderated some of the acidity. The other recipes for these ‘artichoke thistles’ all seemed to involve either an oven or some deep frying, and I wanted to avoid both expedients.

I think I’ll know better what to expect next time, and there will definitely be a next time. I’ve assembled several new recipes even since preparing last night’s dinner.

There were herbs (there area almost always herbs), sage and parsley for the hake, peppermint for the cardoons.

  • two hake fillets (a total of one pound), from P.E. & D. D. Seafood, dredged in local North Country Farms Stone Ground Whole Wheat Flour seasoned with plenty of sea salt and fresh-ground Tellicherry pepper, dipped in a shallow bowl in which one egg from Millport Dairy and about a tablespoon of Trickling Springs Creamery 2% milk had been beaten together with a fork, sautéed in 2 tablespoons of Organic Valley ‘Cultured Pasture Butter’, along with 3 very large fresh sage leaves from Phillips Farms, inside a heavy tin-lined oval copper pan for about 7 minutes, turning the sections half of the way through, then sprinkled with organic lemon juice from Whole Foods Market and the small amount of pan juices that remained, arranged on 2 plates, garnished with chopped parsley from Keith’s Farm, served with lemon wedges on the side
  • one stalk of cardoons form Alewife Farm, trimmed, cut into one-inch lengths, prepared (including blanching for about 20 or 25 minutes), along the lines of these instructions, placed without crowding too much, over medium heat inside a large heavy cast iron well-seasoned pan after several tablespoons of the same Organic Valley butter had been placed in it, had melted, and the had foam subsided, the flame reduced to medium-low, the vegetables sautéed, stirring occasionally, until they took on a bit of color, or for about 10 to 12 minutes, followed by one section of an orange/gold dried habanada pepper and one large clove of Rocambole garlic, chopped, from Keith’s Farm, cooked for a very few minutes, or until the garlic was tender, and finally about half a cup of fresh bread crumbs (a white baguette from Whole Foods Market baked a day or two before) and a pinch of salt, the heat turned up to medium-high, and the contents of the pan cooked, stirring occasionally, until the crumbs browned a bit and the cardoons fully tender (and, ideally, sweet), or about 5 minutes longer, the dish seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, arranged on the plates, a bit of lemon juice and some chopped peppermint from Phillips Farm sprinkled over the top
  • the wine was a California (Clarksburg) white, Richard Bruno Clarksburg Chenin Blanc 2016, from Naked Wines
  • the music was the album, ‘Ligeti, Murail and Benjamin: Musica Viva Vol 22’, George Benjamin conducting the Bavarian RSO and Pierre-Laurent Aimard

spaghetto con zucchine fritte, timo, pecorino

Fred Plotkin is the author of this simple pasta concept. It was one of several excellent very minimal recipes that appeared in an article, ‘Pasta From the Provinces’, which I tore out of the May, 1986 issue of ‘GQ’. The magazine’s pages have frayed and torn (they were printed before many of our friends had even been born), but the recipe has not; in fact it only gets better as its competition becomes increasingly complex in this increasingly complex age.

Fred writes that the recipe came from Signora Francesca Santonocito, “..an excellent Sicilian cook whose recipes I have come to know through her daughter, Luciana.” (it seems that most recipes, or at least the very best, are only restatements of ones created earlier, which were most likely themselves restatements).

I’ve made this dish a number of times, beginning inside my Broad and Water streets loft weeks after I cut it out of the magazine, but tonight, when Barry requested it, I realized we had not enjoyed it since I began writing this food blog in 2009.

Spaghetti with fried zucchini.

The only change I made to this classic last night was the addition of some fresh thyme.

  • two round zucchini from Alewife Farm (10 or 11 ounces). sliced very thinly (approximately 1//16th of an inch), sautéed, without crowding, in 2 batches, turning once, inside a very large heavy cast iron oiled pan over a relatively hot flame until they had almost caramelized, scattered with chopped thyme leaves from Stokes Farm, before the squash was joined and mixed inside its pan by 8 ounces of Afeltra Pasta di Gragnano Spaghetto from Eataly, cooked al dente, and a little of the reserved pasta cooking water (to emulsify the sauce), seasoned with freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper and arranged in 2 low bowls, some Sicilian olive oil drizzled around the edges of the pasta, and a modest amount of freshly-grated Fulvi Pecorino Romano DOP, from Eataly, distributed over the top
  • the wine throughout was an Italian (Sicily) white, Corvo Bianco 2015, from Philippe Liquors and Wines
  • the music throughout was a recording of Beethoven’s three Razumovsky [or Rasumovsky] string quartets, opus 59, performed by the Alexander String Quartet

simple breakfast, with some low-key spice, and Messiaen

There were several internationally-sourced ‘spicy’ elements, broadly understood, in this breakfast, including Indian black pepper, a heatless Cornel habañero, peppery Connecticut nasturtium leaves, and a Basque piment powder.

Otherwise it was mostly bacon and eggs and toast.

  • There were six pastured chicken eggs from John Stoltzfoos’ Millport Dairy Farm stall in the Union Square Greenmarket, fried sunny side up; Millport Dairy thick bacon, toasts from two different sturdy breads, a multigrain baguette (unbleached wheat flour, whole wheat dark rye, white starter, honey, sugar grain mix {millet, sunflower, coarse rye, oats, flax seed, sesame) from She Wolf Bakery, and a loaf of Balthazar Bakery sourdough rye from Schaller & Weber; stems of some baby French Leeks from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm; Maldon Salt, freshly-ground Tellicherrry pepper, pinches of a homemade French Basque piment d’Espellate purchased in a small town north of Baie-Comeau, Quebec 3 and a half years ago from the producer’s daughter; more of the same mix of herbs assembled for the dinner of two days before , and for the tomato salad last night as well (a combination of peppermint, bush basil, and oregano from Norwich Meadows Farm, summer savory and thyme from Stokes Farm, fennel frond from Alewife Farm, and dill flowers from Eckerton Hill Farm); a little Organic Valley ‘Cultured Pasture Butter’, for the toasts that were too rigid for dipping into the egg yolks; and micro nasturtium leaves from Two Guys from Woodbridge
  • the music, which we listened to while we sat at the breakfast room window open to the garden, was ‘Olivier Messiaen: Complete Bird Music For Piano Solo’, performed by  Carl-Axel Dominique, in 3 CD discs (3 hours, 29 minutes)

smoked hatch pepper sausage, Spätzle noodles; tomatoes

Red or green?

The sausage was German, but with a bit of a kink (there was a lot of spice). Still, it was produced by a family-owned and now legendary New York German butcher shop, so we both thought of pursuing the idea of a German meal through a judicious choice of its accompaniments, even if it would be more of a creative, 21st-century and (narrowly) cosmopolitan German meal.

I had probably, without knowing it, been saving that package of Spätzle noodles for just such an occasion, as I hadn’t felt they represented the echt thing (which has to be egg noodles made by hand, at home), and I was reluctant to pass them off as such. This seemed to be the right moment to try them out.

We had first tasted these fantastic sausages, on buns, with condiments, at Schaller’s Stube, which is, naturally (was sonst?), a ‘sausage bar’. Half of the name, and probably almost half of the sausages special interest, comes from a certain ingredient, ‘hatch pepper‘, identified with New Mexico, and not with Germany.

So I thought it made at least some sense, at least using a little imagination, to accompany these capsicum-flavored sausages, and the German ghost pasta, with some really excellent tomatoes I had ripening on the breakfast room windowsill, since both peppers and tomatoes originated in the lands of what is today known as Latin America.

  • four smoked hatch chile sausages from Schalle & Weber, pan grilled until they looked just a little blistery, served with a bit of ‘Meretina’ horseradish spread from Schaller & Weber and some organic German-style Texas-manufactured mustard from Whole Foods Market
  • eight ounces or so from a packaged Swabian specialty, ‘Traditional German Egg Pasta Spaetzle’, made in Trochtelfingen, Baden-Württemberg, Germany
    by Bechtle (I don’t remember where it was purchased), cooked in a large pot of salted water for about 10 minutes, turned into a large high-sided tin-lined copper pot in which most of one thinly sliced red onion from Alex’s Tomato Farm in the 23rd St. farmers market had been sautéed, along with a little dried orange/gold habanada pepper, in a couple tablespoons of Organic Valley ‘Cultured Pasture Butter’ from Whole Foods Market, until the onion was more than softened, the mix seasoned with sea salt and Tellicherry pepper, a couple teaspoons of chopped thyme from Stokes Farm added and tossed in, garnished on the plates with purple micro radish from Two Guys from Woodbridge
  • two large heirloom tomatoes from from Sycamore Farms, cut into wedges, tossed with a roughly-chopped section of the same red onion used with the Spätzle, seasoned with sea salt and Tellicherry pepper, drizzled with some Sicilian olive oil from Whole Foods, and a little white balsamic vinegar, sprinkled with the same mix of herbs assembled for the dinner of the day before (a combination of peppermint, bush basil, and oregano from Norwich Meadows Farm, summer savory and thyme from Stokes Farm, fennel frond from Alewife Farm, and dill flowers from Eckerton Hill Farm)
  • the wine was a California (Central Coast) rosé, Keith Hock Central Coast Rosé 2015, from Naked Wines
  • the music was the album, ‘The Eos Ensemble / Jonathan Sheffer ‎– Music For Merce‘, a choice inspired by our visit to the first rooms of the Museum of Modern Art’s Rauschenberg retrospective that day (we will be returning, probably more than once, to the exhibition)

herb-sautéed whiting, lemon; cucumber, leeks, tomatoes

We love whiting, but because we have it so seldom I’m only reminded of just how much once we sit down to enjoy it again.

This meal was an excellent reminder.

  • one 12-ounce whiting fillet from Pura Vida Seafood, rinsed, dried, cut into 2 pieces, seasoned with salt and freshly-ground pepper, placed inside a heavy tin-lined oval copper pan and prepared something like this terrific Melissa Clark recipe (which can be used for almost any white fish fillet), using one thick thick scallion from Alex’s Tomato Farm (the 23rd Street Satuday market), Organic Valley ‘Cultured Pasture Butter’, at least 4 tablespoons of a mix of 7 different chopped herbs (this time a combination of peppermint, bush basil, and oregano from Norwich Meadows Farm, summer savory and thyme from Stokes Farm, fennel frond from Alewife Farm, and dill flowers from Eckerton Hill Farm), briefly improvising a little aluminum foil for the cover mentioned in the recipe, and using a wooden spoon to repeatedly spread/ladle the scallion-herb butter over the fillets (there was plenty of room in the pan this time); the lemon juice was from an organic fruit from Whole Foods Market

But there’s much more to a good dinner than its protein stars, however wonderful they may be. These images include [most of] the herbs and vegetables I used this time, while they waited to dry, occupying virtually all of the counter surfaces of our kitchen.

  • one white ‘Boothby’ cucumber from Willow Wisp Farm, sliced thickly, dried, sautéed inside a large high-sided tin-lined copper pan in a little olive oil over a fairly high flame until the pieces had begun to color, turning once, then joined by several baby French Leeks (using the white sections and some of the lighter green) from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm and some sliced fennel stems, both from Alewife Farm, everything sautéed until somewhat caramelized, sea salt and freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper added, and, when the heat had been turned off, a large handful of very ripe small golden cherry tomatoes, also from Alewife Farm, rolled around inside the pan with the rest of the vegetables until warmed through but still whole, the vegetables arranged on the plates and garnished with micro nasturtium leaves from Two Guys from Woodbridge

There had also been an antipasto.

  • Applegate Naturals prosciutto from Whole Foods (a 4 ounce package), wrapped around the tines of a large fork, arranged on 2 plates, drizzled with a good olive oil, Alce Nero DOP ‘Terra di Bari Bitonto’ from Eataly
  • some really good red dandelion leaves from Norwich Meadows Farm, seasoned with Maldon salt and freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, drizzled with the same oil and a bit of juice from a Whole Foods Market organic lemon
  • slices of a small “Medieval Baguette’, from Bobolink Dairy & Bakehouse in Union Square Greenmarket

 

quail, balsamic reduction sauce; grilled fennel; chard, garlic

They were the largest and plumpest quail we have ever enjoyed. They turned out to be the tastiest as well, so we didn’t complain about the usual delicate carving operation required with tiny whole birds.

I could have flattened and pan-grilled them of course, saving some labor at the table and also avoiding a hot oven on a warm summer evening, but I was looking forward to seeing the little roasts arranged on the plates, and by using the air conditioning in the ‘breakfast room’, we were able to keep the dining table area cool.

We normally share 4 smaller quail between us for a main course, but these two approximated the weight of 4 of those raised in Georgia, so last night a single bird was enough for one serving.

The recipe had to be right, so I went looking for something suitable for roasting what I expected would be a special bird. I found this one on Simply Recipes, and, except for a few adjustments, I pretty much ran with it.

  • after turning on the oven, and while waiting for it to heat to 400°F, two whole unboned (8+ ounce) pasture-raised certified organic quail from Abra Morawiec’s Feisty Acres Farm in Jamesport, Long Island, were washed and dried inside and out before each cavity was stuffed with a quarter of an organic lemon from Whole Foods Market and half of the following mix: 4 garlic cloves from Norwich Meadows Farm, peeled and bruised a little, the leaves of 2 sprigs of fresh thyme sprigs from Stokes Farm, the leaves of one sprig of fresh rosemary from Keith’s Farm, and one and a half tablespoons of Sicilian olive oil from Whole Foods Market, the quail then rubbed with olive oil and sea salt, trussed with string (holding legs together and wings against the breasts), the birds set aside and allowed to come to room temperature (allowing at least 20 minutes from the refrigerator), at which time they were quickly browned on all sides inside a small heavy enameled cast iron oval pan and, using sections of fennel stems to keep the birds breast-upright while they roasted (or celery stalks, or whatever suitable vegetable might be available), for about 20 minutes, but most importantly, until an instant-read thermometer registered 150º (the meat should also feel slightly firm, and the juices run pale pink when the bird is punctured with a skewer), adding half way through almost half a cup of white wine, Miriam Alexandra Chenin Blanc California 2016 (a very good chicken stock would be an alternative), the birds removed from the pan when done and set aside on a wooden plank or warm plate to rest for about 10 minutes, loosely tented with foil, while the sauce was assembled, beginning with discarding the fennel stems and placing the roasting pan on a burner above medium heat, adding a little chicken stock or wine (I used a sherry, Lustau, ‘Papirusa’ Light Manzanilla Sherry, from Sherry Lehmann), deglazing the pan by scraping any browned bits off the bottom, bringing the liquid to a simmer, pouring it into a small pot or sauté pan with about half a cup of a (hopefully inexpensive) balsamic vinegar, increasing the heat to high and boiling the liquid down to a syrup, or until it is able to coat the back of a spoon, the quail served on the plates with the sauce drizzled over everything and the birds garnished with micro nasturtium leaves from Two Guys from Woodbridge

  • one small fennel bulb from Lucky Dog Organic Farm, sliced in half, then into wedges, sautéed in olive oil , along with some of the more tender stems, along with a little chopped garlic from Norwich Meadows Farm, sea salt and freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, served garnished with chopped fennel fronds

  • red Swiss chard from Willow Wisp Farm, wilted in a little olive oil in which 2 halved garlic cloves from Norwich Meadows Farm had been heated, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, arranged on the plates and drizzled with a little olive oil
  • the wine was a California (Amador) red, using 2 Portuguese grapes (Touriga and Tempranillo), from Naked Wines
  • the music was Jean-Philippe Rameau’s 1749-1756 opera, ‘Zoroastre’, the last of the composer’s tragédies en musique to be performed in his lifetime, William Christie conducting Les Arts Florissants ‎