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By Root 254 0

and though I found them intrusive and ugly as architecture, on foggy nights they glowed pleasantly, like candles through the mist. On that awful late-summer morning, under clear skies, I watched them burn, and for days we wore gauze masks when we went out. Those who could, left town. When I paid my weekly visit a few days later to Russ & Daughters, the century-old appetizer shop on Houston Street, I had to pass through a police checkpoint on my way home, where the officers, respectful of my age, did not bother to inspect my package of smoked salmon and herring. Instead, they offered to carry my bundle. The attack had rattled our confidence but made us a community. The streets were nearly empty that week and the next, except for police and street cleaners and heavy trucks rumbling north with debris. Our firehouse on Lafayette Street was banked with flowers and photographs of the men who had died, men whom I recognized and whose job had been to save our lives. I assumed that Bin Laden and his gang would be quickly captured. It never entered my mind that a year later he would still be at large while the United States would be at war with Iraq, which had nothing to do with the attack.

In Sag Harbor, near the eastern end of Long Island, a hundred miles or so from lower Manhattan, the Atlantic breeze was, as always after the long drive from the city, crisp and clean and exciting to breathe. I hadn’t cooked since the eleventh and looked forward to feeding some friends who were coming down from Connecticut to stay with us for the weekend. So, before we turned off the highway toward Sag Harbor, I stopped at the Seafood Shop in the village of Wainscott to see what I could find for their lunch. What I found were some fillets of striped bass caught that morning, oysters from Fishers Island, and a bunch of cilantro. I also bought a two-pound lobster, a dozen hot-dog rolls—top-sliced, not side-sliced—and celery. Whatever else I needed was at home. Then we drove over to the airport to await our friends.

OYSTERS RAW AND FRIED

I opened two dozen oysters and served them with a half-glass of malt vinegar to which I added some chopped shallot and cracked black pepper. I also shucked another dozen oysters and dredged them in fine cornstarch mixed with a little Wondra flour, shook off the excess, and fried them in olive oil for no more than two minutes, until they were crisp and light brown, then served them on oyster shells into which I had spooned a dab of homemade mayonnaise thinned with lemon juice, a hint of hot sauce, and a sprinkling of minced chives from the garden.

WARM BASS SALAD

I also made a warm salad. I discarded the skin from a pound and a half of wild (not farmed) striped-bass fillet, cut the fish into one-inch cubes, removing the few small bones that remained, and dropped the cubed bass into a four-quart pot of gently boiling salted water, to which I had added a cup of white wine and half a lemon. I poached the fish just long enough so that I could break the cubes apart with a fork to the consistency of lump crabmeat. Timing here is crucial: Bass dries out quickly in poaching liquid. On the other hand, the bass has to be cooked through. So be careful. After about four or five minutes, I tested the bass with a small knife, and it was ready. I drained the cubes, dropped them into a colander, and broke them up. A few pieces were raw at the center, and I returned them to the pot for another minute. With the fish still warm in the colander, I napped it lightly with extra-virgin olive oil, lemon juice, and sea salt, and turned it all gently with a wooden spoon while continuing to let it drain. Then I tossed the warm bass with its dressing in a bowl with a good handful of chopped cilantro and tasted it for balance, adding whatever seemed necessary. I served this at once with a few Niçoise olives and a Pouilly-Fumé. Check the salad for salt before you serve it, taking care not to add too much. You might serve the salad with a few trimmed and quartered hearts of romaine, tossed in extra-virgin oil and showered with fresh-ground