Above: owner Peter Hoffman loves the Charlie Churchill oil painting that hangs on the backsplash of the bar at his East Village restaurant Back 40. The bird is a bittern.

I first met NYC chef and restaurateur Peter Hoffman in 2001 when I attended a Basque-themed dinner at his SoHo restaurant Savoy celebrating the publication of Mark Kurlansky’s book The Basque History of the World.

When I ran into him the other night at his relatively new East Village restaurant Back Forty, he explained to me that back 40 is a reference to the Homestead Act of 1862, whereby 40-acre parcels of land were allocated to settlers. The expression front 40 denoted the more prized parcels, while the back 40 were less desirable.

“We wanted to remind people where their food comes from,” said Peter. To the great extent possible, he explained, he sources all the ingredients from local farmers and farms, favoring sustainable foodstuffs over the commercial and industrial.

The prices were right at Back 40, the wine list solid, the beer well-draughted, the pork chop perfectly rare in the middle. But my favorite thing about my evening at Back 40 was the sustainable Gram Parsons: country music is the favorite genre there and they kept the Gram playing all night that night.

Fried whole shrimp with cilantro.

The best pork chop I’ve had in a long time.

Gram Parsons, one of my heroes.

Some nice Swedish guy, an intern at the U.N.

*****

And Lord knows that New York City’s got a lot to do with it…

— Gram Parsons

Big Mouth Blues

Oh, well, I was born in a little bitty tar hut
And they called me a man ’cause I couldn’t keep my big, big mouth shut
So what’s the sense of me sitting here leaving
When any ole day I might be even
And Lord knows that New York City’s got a lot to do with it
I wish someday I could find the way to get it out of my grain
This dirty old town’s gonna sink right down and I don’t want to go with it
Well I wish there was a way that
I knew to get even
A way to get a lick in
A-bobbin’ and a-weavin’
Any ole thing besides goin’ and a-leavin’
You can do on a train

Well, I once knew a man who sailed around the world twice
He would have made it three but he took a lot of bad advice
So you just tell me what’s the sense of mesittin’ here leavin’
When any ole day I might get even
And Lord knows New York City’s got a lot to do with it
I wish someday I could find a way to get it out of my brain
This dirty old town’s gonna sink right down and I don’t want to go with it
I wish there was a way that I knew to get even, way to get a lick in
A-bobbin’ and a-weavin’
Any ole thing besides goin’ and a-leavin’
You can do on a train
Oh, yes!

Well, I once knew a man who sailed around the world twice
But his motor cooled down and now he’s deliverin’ ice
Tell me what’s the sense of him sittin’ here leavin’
When any ole day he might get even
And Lord knows New York City’s got a lot to do with it
I wish someday he could find a way to get it out of his brain
This dirty old town’s gonna sink right down and I don’t want to go with it
I wish there was a way that I knew to get even
Way to get a lick in
A-bobbin’ and a-weavin’
Any ole thing besides goin’ and a-leavin’
You can do on a train
Oh, yeah