Striking a chord
and a recipe for duck eggs in pancetta cups with porcini mushrooms and cheese
Last week, we bought a new CD player.
That sentence has been met with reactions ranging from puzzlement and bemusement to incredulity. “Are CD players still made?” one friend wondered, while another asked “But don’t you have a streaming service?” When I remind them that we got our first TV in 2023 after 33 years of marriage, their faces take on a knowing and unspoken look: we are Luddites who simply don’t embrace new technology.
I would ask a different kind of question. In our relentless pursuit of the latest and greatest technology, we rarely stop to ask ourselves: Are we actually choosing the best, or just the easiest?
Holding the line
Years ago we painstakingly transferred our entire CD collection onto a high-end digital music system. It was like owning a modern jukebox—letting us store, access, and play our favorite albums in high-resolution audio with the push of a button. It was convenient, seamless, and efficient.
Still, we kept our CDs. There always seemed to be a good reason why: what if our fancy system failed; what if we wanted to read the lyrics; what if the CD wasn’t downloadable? And even with the advent of streaming services that filled those gaps, something inside me just didn’t want to let go of a lifetime of collecting music we loved.
Before we sold our house two years ago, we did a lot of downsizing. And yet, the CDs held on. They found their way into boxes, Cline jostling next to Cash and Costello; David Bowie stacked next to Leon Bridges and Gnarls Barkley; Mahler, Mozart and Mussorgsky trying to outplay one another—a delightfully haphazard cacophony of joy, the soundtrack of our life.
As we settled into our new home, we prioritized high-fidelity sound, opting for a great system, excellent speakers and services like TIDAL, which offers high-quality streaming. Sunday morning sunshine, really good coffee and Ella Fitzgerald on 10—life was good.
Yet, streaming couldn’t account for all our accumulated treasures. Rare recordings and compilations, niche classical music, bootleg concerts, world artists—they were the forgotten names languishing in boxes eight floors below us, sitting in the silent purgatory of our storage locker. Scrolling through music had subtly replaced something more tactile, analog, connected to all of our senses.
And so, despite every technological advance we had embraced, we bought that CD player.
High Fidelity
At some point, the race for convenience became more important than craftsmanship. We impatient humans swapped records for CDs, then CDs for MP3s, then MP3s for streaming—each step promising more accessibility, more efficiency, more ease. But somewhere along the way, mediocrity crept in.
We accepted lower bitrates, compressed files, and algorithm-fed playlists because they were effortless. We traded warmth for speed, depth for accessibility, and quality for quantity. And we barely noticed, because convenience has a way of making us forget what we’ve lost.
Yet that doesn’t mean it’s lost forever.
In North America, CD players may seem like relics, overshadowed by streaming and smart speakers. But globally, the story is different. CD sales are on the rise, fueled by fans eager for a tangible connection to their favorite artists. Collectors, audiophiles, and dedicated music communities refuse to let go of the experience that physical media provides.
If this sounds familiar, it’s because we’ve seen it before. Vinyl’s revival was once considered a niche trend, yet it has defied expectations, proving that listeners still crave something real—something they can see, hold, and experience beyond a screen. Now, CDs are following a similar path. I think there are a few reasons why.
First, there’s nostalgia and tangibility. The feel of an album in your hands, the ritual of flipping through liner notes, the tactile act of choosing what to play—these moments create a physical, sensory connection to the music that a streaming service just can’t.
Then there’s audio quality. While streaming prioritizes speed and accessibility, CDs provide uncompressed sound, delivering warmth and depth that discerning listeners crave. Audiophiles have long known what casual listeners are starting to remember—fidelity matters. There are dozens of high end maniufacters still making top drawer CD players, some going for as much as $12,000.00 (Note: we did not pay $12,000 for our CD player!)
And there’s collectibility. Special edition releases, box sets, and beautifully designed packaging have turned CDs and vinyl into coveted artifacts. Fans aren’t just buying music; they’re holding onto pieces of an artist’s story, a physical manifestation of their connection to the songs they love. Artists of every genre, from The Grateful Dead to Jack White are releasing boxed CD sets and collectible vinyl.
Meet 36-year-old classical violinist Ray Chen. Chen is reinventing the violin for a new generation—blending classical mastery with recordings that feature video game music, anime soundtracks, and reimagined music from pop culture hits like Squid Game. Embracing technology and vinyl, he’s bringing timeless artistry to a fresh, younger audience.
Nowhere is this more evident than in his first vinyl release, Player 1. This is how Chen describes this innovative album on his website:
Choose your character. Three words that will be familiar to anyone who’s ever played a computer game. On Player 1, award-winning violinist Ray Chen reveals to us the links that bond classical music and gaming. Both involve interaction and multiplayer experiences. Both have their parameters set by a “games-master” or composer: one dictates the rules via code, the other via black squiggles on paper. Both bring delight and joy. And both conjure rich worlds in which players can roam, discover and grow. On the album cover, Ray shows us his different guises: entrepreneur, musician, social media influencer and games enthusiast. He’s Player 1. You, the listener, are Player 2. Are you ready?
Increasingly there’s an audience that is ready for it.
A kid in a candy store
While North American department stores have long abandoned music sections—and struggle to stay afloat—many European stores have extensive music departments, with listening stations, genres for every taste, and knowledgeable employees, reflecting a sustained appreciation for physical media.
On our recent trip to Munich, we discovered a beautiful store in the heart of the city. Ludwig Beck describes itself as a “store for the senses,” with each of its seven floors offering an experience that showcases unique products, innovative merchandising, and beauty.
Nowhere is this more evident than on the fifth floor, dedicated to a vast music department. As we came up the escalator, it stopped us in our tracks. Aisle after aisle of music, CDs, and albums that we could touch, feel, and listen to. Where else can you pick up CDs, enjoy listening, compare recordings, and take all the time in the world to make a purchase decision? We felt like kids in a candy store.

The truth is, the way we listen is always evolving, but that doesn’t mean we have to trade one experience for another. Vinyl and CDs have proven that physical and digital formats can coexist, each offering something unique. Because true artistry—the kind that lingers, the kind that demands attention—has never been about what’s easiest. It’s about craft, patience, and an unwavering commitment to quality.
And that’s always worth preserving.
If you liked this post, let me know by clicking the ❤️ button. It helps spread the word about Delicious Bits and brings me joy. Thank you, dear readers and eaters!
Duck eggs in pancetta cups with porcini mushrooms and cheese
makes four
When we’re hosting brunch, Sunday mornings are a whirl of activity, cooking, and most of all, music. We set our intentions and the mood in one fell swoop: Fred Astaire, Ella Fitzgerald, Mel Tormé, and Diana Krall for a laid-back vibe; Bruno Mars, Luther Vandross, Van Hunt, Al Green, and Marvin Gaye for a soulful Sunday; Bee Gees, Donna Summer, Chic, The Jacksons, Kool & the Gang, and Earth, Wind & Fire for a retro upbeat morning. Even better, one of those amazing compilation CDs we rescused from purgatory.
No matter the mood, these little egg cups make a Sunday brunch delicious. They can either form the main course of your breakfast or be a mini side dish for a brunch. Serve two per person if they are the main event. They're baked in steps, to allow each element of the dish to cook to perfection.
Ingredients
½ lb piece pancetta (not sliced)
3 oz dried porcini mushrooms
1 small garlic clove, minced
2 tbsp chopped parsley, divided
½ tbsp each unsalted butter and olive oil
Sea salt and freshly ground pepper
4 duck or chicken eggs
2 oz Gruyere cheese or cheese of your choice, cut into thin 2 " strips
Heat oven to 400°F, with the rack in the middle position.
Boil 2 cups water and pour over the mushrooms. Reconstitute for 20 minutes.
While the mushrooms are reconstituting, slice the pancetta into 4 x 4-inch strips. Grease 4 of the cups in a regular muffin tin, and line them with the pancetta, around the sides and the bottom. Set aside. Separate the eggs, being careful not to break the yolks. Set the yolks aside in a small bowl, and put the egg whites in a pourable measuring cup.
When the mushrooms are ready, drain, rinse and chop finely. Heat the butter and oil over medium heat in a small skillet, and when the foam subsides, add the garlic. Sauté, stirring, for a minute and then add the mushrooms and one tbsp of parsley. Continue sautéing, stirring, until the ingredients meld and are fragrant, about two minutes more.
Add a generous tablespoon of the porcini mixture to each cup. Divide the egg whites between the cups. Place the muffin tin in the oven and bake for 10-12 minutes, or until the egg whites are just set. Take the tin out of the oven, top each cup with cheese and an egg yolk and put back in the oven, baking a further 2 minutes, or the until the yolks are set to your liking.
We also still have CDs! There is a rustic cabin resort we sometimes go to that has small portable CD player in the cabin. It's such nostalgic fun to bring a collection of old favorites up with us for the weekend :)
… and we thought we were the only ones. Like you, we still don’t have a TV after 31 years together. And like you, I painstakingly downloaded all my CDs one by one on ITunes on my IPhone. Schlepped all my all my albums and cds across the globe and still enjoy selecting the ones I want to listen to. Promising I will give them away to charity… a most difficult thing to do.