The butter is browning in an aged carbon steel pan, awaiting a handful of crab and a shower of lemon zest. Rivulets of pale vinegar run down a craggy mound of orange and green tomatoes freckled with fresh-cracked pepper. The table is set with gingham and drippy candles and old china and a tiny crystal bowl filled with flaky salt. Welcome to my kitchen. Take a big, deep breath of that salt-tinged air wafting through the open window, grab a wooden spoon and start stirring.