Well, this was an eclectic night. After attending a piano concert with a fine young pianist and an ambitious program, featuring works by Piazzola, Mariano, Ginastera, Bolcom, Kirchner, and Schoenberg (really!), we came home and needed a bedtime snack.
Mrs. W had made her world-class crabcakes for dinner, but nonetheless, she was hungry again at 10:00 PM. Naturally, being in pack-up mode for the trip home from the island less than 48 hours from now, she decided to use up some of the bagels in the freezer. Since cream cheese is personna non grata, she spread lemon goat cheese on her toasted bagels and was ready for bed.
I, however, needed a little more excitement. After toasting and buttering two halves of my bagel with sesame seeds, I decided on Kimcheese open-face sandwiches. On one half went a slab of creamy mozzarella and on the other half, slices of a Mexican Colby cheese. These were garnished lavishly with some chopped kick-ass Kimchee (Mother-in-Law’s Kimchee, known as MILKimchee by the cogniscenti). (My thanks to Saxelby Cheese.)
While I would love to tell you that I paired this with a marvelous, little-known Tasmanian wine, harvested only in years divisible by 7, this was sheer fantasy. In fact, the dish called for a good beer. Indeed, another house-emptying chore was to finish the last beer, a bottle of Red Stripe left by one of our renters two weeks ago. Together, it was so good that I almost forgot to take a photo for you before the bagel was almost all gone.
So, my snack was a Jewish bagel, topped with Italian and Mexican cheese and Korean pickled spicy Napa cabbage, downed with a Jamaican beer, with the final notes of a Russian — Scriabin, Sonata #5, Op.53 — ringing in my ear. The heartburn will last another 36 hours, at least.