The Champagne of Blogs » Bacon Week 2009

Bacon Week 2: Bacon Soap

Dave Selden — Tue, 15 Sep 2009 04:48:42 +0000

I thought I would smell like bacon.

I’ve been using Bacon Soap for a week, and really, I smell a bit savory, but I don’t smell anything like bacon. No more than any other person that’s been cooking pounds and pounds of bacon in a short period of time, anyway. Not smoky, not salty, not … bacony.

It does smell a little bacony when you use it, though. Actually, it smells a little like other fake bacon products do when you use it. Having sampled a wide variety of bacon-inspired products in a short period of time, I am now highly attuned to that unique blend of industrial dyes and spices that some companies use to mimic the smell of my favorite salty meat. Bacon soap smells like bacon gumballs. Bacon soap smells like bacon mints. Bacon soap smells like bacon air freshener. Bacon soap smells like trying too hard. And it kind of stings my eyes.

Bacon Week 2: Swiss Chard with Bacon Lardons

Dave Selden — Sun, 13 Sep 2009 03:47:51 +0000

Sometimes you want a baguette, and sometimes you want sliced bread. But in the bread family, at least, most American supermarkets give you that choice: sliced or unsliced. Not so with bacon. “You’ll buy sliced bacon, and you’ll like it, bub. Because we know how thick you want it.”

I beg to differ, and thanks to the fine folks at Broadbent Hams, you don’t have to take it anymore, either. Bacn.com offers many of their fine bacons in slab format, so you can cut it how you want it. I like my bacon sliced thick for breakfast slices, but for cooking, it’s especially nice to have bacon cut to order. The French call thick chunks of bacon for cooking “lardons” and they’re a nice addition to any cook’s cupboard. I say cupboard, because Broadbent’s bacon is shelf-stable, at least until you open the package. Sliced into 1/4″ cubes, the outside gets nice and crispy, while the interior stays somewhat soft, providing two nice textures in one morsel.

As a confirmed meatatarian, I’m usually not a big fan of vegetables, but with the addition of bacon, I become exponentially more interested. Wife Sarah’s perfected the art of cooking greens (swiss chard in this example). Here’s her recipe:

Cook 1/4 pound of cubed bacon on medium-low heat in a dutch oven (we LOVE our Le Creuset), cooking until it’s brown on the outside. Remove with a slotted spoon and set aside.
Pour off all but enough bacon grease to coat the bottom of the pan.
Saute the greens in the bacon grease for a few minutes, until the leaves wilt, about 5 minutes.
Add about 3 tablespoons of apple cider vinegar (to taste) and stir.
Add in a teaspoon or two of brown sugar (to taste) and stir to combine.
Put the bacon bits back in and stir some more. If you like really crispy bacon, add it after simmering the greens on their own for awhile.
Simmer, covered, until stems soften. About 20-25 minutes of simmering results in a texture we generally like, but some people prefer a softer stem still.
Season with salt and pepper to taste.

Greens go especially well with barbecue ribs, pulled pork or fried chicken (shown above), but they’re a nice complement to almost any southern-inspired and/or porky meal. Warm, homemade biscuits optional, but highly recommended.

Bacon Week 2: Bacon-Maple Lollipops

Dave Selden — Sat, 12 Sep 2009 03:56:08 +0000

Editor’s Note: There sure is a lot of bacon-related stuff out there. Every day, it seems, I find something new. And yet, there are only so many days in a Bacon Week. “Seven,” you’re thinking. Nope. Going to go with nine this year. It’s just too little time, and I have a few more things I need to share with the world (and my slow-learning co-workers). Bacon Week 2 ends Monday evening.

After the bacon-flavored sunflower seeds and last year’s bacon mint debaucle, I thought it was time to bring something tasty to work. The mad scientists over at Lollyphile began with just a couple of flavors: absinthe and … you guessed it. Bacon. Maple-bacon, to be exact. Made with real Vermont maple syrup and an un-named organic bacon. Real ingredients, assembled with care. I felt sure this would be the reputation redemption I was looking for. Unfortunately, the treats got a little too much heat after being left in my car, malforming the lollipops quite a bit. Sorry, guys.

Scott: First of all, it was incredibly sticky and difficult to open, and once you got it open, it wasn’t attached to the stick very well, so it came off after a few licks. Secondly, though mine had a liberal amount of bacon bits sprinkled through the maple-flavored candy, they didn’t actually add any flavor at all, unless you got one out and bit into it, and even then, it was overwhelmed by the maple. The maple candy wasn’t bad at all, but since I was expecting more bacon flavor, I was disappointed.

Rodrigo: I think the experience would’ve probably started off better if the lollipop didn’t stick all over my hands. Nonetheless, the super sweet maple flavor is definitely prominent at first… not too much bacon at all. As the lollipop dissolves, rather sticks all over your teeth, I started to feel a subtle bacon flavor here and there. The savory-sweet balance happened maybe about at the half way point—which was still sort of pleasant. After that, bacon bits were being released in high quantity, and the whole thing just kind of got a little gross. The end point just seriously tastes like old bacon from the fridge with a dollop of maple syrup. The overall experience: it was a rollercoaster of weirdness in my mouth!

Libby: My first reaction, after I managed after 5 minutes get the sucker open, was that it tasted like a sweet potato. The maple flavor was good, although mine seemed to only sport small shreds of bacon which didn’t give it much bacon flavor. That said, listening to cohorts who had larger pieces of bacon in theirs that behaved “like shards of glass”, I was thankful. Overall, it tasted like maple. And perhaps it was due to the heat treatment it received in Dave’s car, but: it behaved more like a hard caramel than a sucker, and I had to manually reattach it to the stick before I even sampled it. While innocuous, when compared to the Bacon Lip Balm, it failed to prove to me that bacon is a worthwhile sucker flavor, as it didn’t seem to have any bacon flavor.

Bacon Week 2: Bacon-Flavored Sunflower Seeds

Dave Selden — Thu, 10 Sep 2009 19:58:50 +0000

The guys over at Bacon Salt have a simple premise that guides their company’s product development team: “Everything Should Taste Like Bacon.” To a large extent, I agree with that statement. Most foods DO taste better with actual bacon as an ingredient. I’ve had maple-flavored ice cream sprinkled with still-warm bacon bits. Most excellent. Burgers with bacon are incredible. Duh.

I’m going to go out on a limb and say that I agree with the Bacon Salt guys, at least as long as we’re talking about things tasting better with bacon, as long as actual bacon is used to generate that flavor. It’s when people start trying to create that signature bacon flavor WITHOUT using bacon that problems occur. This is the case with BIGS Bacon-Salt Flavored Sunflower Seeds, as you can see from my unwitting co-workers’ reactions, below.

Bacon Week 2: The BBBBBLT

Dave Selden — Thu, 10 Sep 2009 05:28:08 +0000

“Because it’s there.” That’s the answer George Mallory gave when asked why he wanted to climb Mount Everest. That’s why I knew I had to try the BBBBLT when inspiration struck. Once it occurred to me, I knew I had to make it. And once I made it, I had to eat it. Because it was there.

Let me break it down for you.

Starting from top left, clockwise:

Bacon Beer Bread. Based on this recipe for beer bread, but substituting Hickory Bacon Salt for the salt … salt. I used Hempler’s bacon, chopped into little bits, distributed throughout the dough, about three slices worth. This counts for two of the B’s: Bacon Bread.
Bacon Skillet Jam. Sarah got me some from a famous Seattle food cart, and it’s a nice sweet tangy bacony spread. Makes all sandwiches better.
Baconnaise. From the people that brought you Bacon Salt, it’s bacon-flavored (still vegetarian) mayonnaise. It’s got the tang of Miracle Whip, with the aftertaste of bacon salt.
Lettuce. From the garden. That’s the “L.”
Tomato. Ditto. That’s your “T.”
And last but not least, actual bacon bacon. Again, went with Hempler’s bacon. They make a nice meaty bacon, uncured, and very similar to British-style bacon. It’s sweetish, subtle, and not too salty. And very easy to overcook, so keep an eye on it. And thus, for the cardiologists counting along at home, your fifth and final “B.”

I sliced myself two thick slices of bacon bread, and set phasers to “assemble.”

On the left side, I slathered the bread with Baconnaise. Cool color. On the right, Bacon Jam. Weird color. I didn’t test this theory, but I suspect if you attempted to push the pieces of bread together at this stage, it would be like trying to mate two polarly-opposed magnets together, or like mating polar bears and penguins.

Almost done. My hands were shaking as I applied the lettuce to the mayo side, then topped it with tomatoes, as I’m sure Mallory’s were as he gripped that last rock on the way to the top. His were probably shaking from the cold, though. Mine were shaking from excitement. The right side got the actual bacon. Bon Appetit, if you’re reading this, I will license this photo.

Now. Time to meld these two halve together, forming something undoubtedly greater than the sum of its parts, like if South Dakota and North Dakota reunited. And booked the original Guns and Roses for the reunification celebration. Something like that.

It was like eating a bacon tornado. If you recall the scene in Twister, where some debris flies by, swept up in the tornado’s vortex? More debris, followed by a boat, followed by a cow?

That’s what this tasted like. The first hit was the sweetness of the beer bread, punctuated by odd bits of bacon. Once that had passed my palate, a brief crunch of lettuce was followed quickly by a sharp, but sweet Baconnaise tang. More bread, then WHAM! BAM! Bacon Jam! A rich, almost fruity foundation that merged slowly into acidic garden-fresh tomato, quickly followed by Actual Bacon™ texture. It was wild.

I climbed that mountain of a bacon sandwich. Because it was there.

Bacon Week 2: Bacon Watch

Dave Selden — Wed, 09 Sep 2009 05:15:26 +0000

I’ve had the same watch since high school, a Swiss Army model I bought with the money I received as graduation presents, supplemented with a bit of grocery store money. Runs like a champ, nearly bulletproof, waterproof, and not so gaudy as to be considered male jewelry. So it was with some trepidation I replaced my usual left-side sidekick with the simply named “bacon wristwatch,” again from Archie McPhee.

My arm bristled at the foreign-feeling vinyl (a far cry from stainless steel), but I liked the fun look of the deeply embossed, bacon-inspired band. I didn’t pay the watch face much attention, other than to note the lack of numbers on its face.

But as I wore the watch for the next four days, it became more and more irritating, not just for the imprecise time (why wear a watch at all if you only want to know roughly what time it is?), but for the face itself.

The face contains the likeness of Mr. Bacon, a character the folks at McPhee feel has the cultural cachet of Mickey Mouse, but one I find somewhat … annoying. The face could have been so much better, so much more worthy of the bold, fun-looking band. So as an actual Professional Graphic Designer™, I offer a few suggested improvements, shown below.

This one answers the age-old question, a watch’s raison d’etre, “What time is it?” This watch has the answer.

Yes, I know bacon comes from the pig’s belly, but no one wants to tell time by judging which position the nipple is pointing. Instead, use the cute, curly (tasty) tail as indicator!

And, the one that seems both the simplest and most obvious: bacon hands (similar to jazz hands, but not anything like Edward Fortyhands).

Got a better idea? I’ll send the funniest/awesomest reader submission posted here a bacon care package.

Bacon Week 2: Mini BLTs

Dave Selden — Tue, 08 Sep 2009 04:37:56 +0000

I love brewing. And I love eating. But it’s a certain kind of food that goes well with both activities, usually something from the Dorito’s segment of the food pyramid. And while I love orange hands and flavors inspired by the famous Rancho Coolo, I often want something more substantial. Something entree-like, but which doesn’t require silverware. World, I give you … mini BLTs. You’re welcome.

Cook some bacon. In this case, I’m using a slab of thick-sliced, uncured Niman Ranch center cut, Applewood smoked bacon. It’s salty, but not too salty, and easy to cook up to the perfect BLT state: a few minutes past “wiggly,” but not quite rigid. This particular bacon has a deep, smoky flavor to it, which goes well with the other components of the trio without being overpowering.

I also tried a few sandwiches with the no-cook convenience of Archie McPhee’s strawberry-flavored gummi bacon, but it was a bit too chewy for my taste. The sweetness of the strawberry was quite nice, though; a bit like a PLT.

While you’re waiting for Mister Pig to render, it’s a good time to do your other prep. A mini BLT needs small bread. I thought about cutting up a larger sliced loaf, but feared the loss of crust on all four sides could lead to structural problems once the mayonnaise got to softening the bread. Instead, I reached for a baguette, choosing to slice it on the bias (French for “diagonal”) to make the slices a bit longer, since I intended to leave the bacon untrimmed.

Slicing tomatoes is part of any BLT assembly process, but slicing lettuce isn’t. The combination of larger than average lettuce leaves and smaller than usual sandwiches requires it in this case. I sliced it to be just under the width of the mini bread slices.

After prep’s done, and the bacon complete, you’re ready to assemble. Put mayonnaise on both slices of bread; it’s the glue that will hold the sandwiches together and enable one-handed eating. Bacon is next, followed by lettuce and tomato. Lettuce provides a moisture barrier between the juicy tomato and crisp bacon, and texture diversity is very important in a properly-made sandwich.

In just a few minutes, you’ve got a bevvy of BLTs ready for the brewers. A toothpick helps keep everything in place while the mayo sets up. But the main question is, “can this BLT be eaten single-handed?” See you in Sweden, bitches! I’m gettin’ a Nobel!

Bacon Week 2: Bacon Gumballs

Dave Selden — Mon, 07 Sep 2009 05:44:00 +0000

After bacon mints, we hoped we’d seen the end of novelty-inspired, bacon-flavored confections. Boy were we wrong. Seems like the gang at Archie McPhee’s been working overtime to fill out the rest of the bacon candy store. Unfortunately, it seems they’re spending more time coming up with candy ideas than they are on candy flavor refinement, as evidenced by these first time tasters’ reactions:

Bacon Week 2: It Begins

Dave Selden — Sun, 06 Sep 2009 05:03:45 +0000

You know what time it is? That’s right, it’s bacon time. I can tell, because I’m wearing a bacon watch. I showered this morning with bacon soap. I just mixed some pork belly with salt and brown sugar, in pursuit of some more homemade bacon.

But I have a larger agenda for this year’s Bacon Week (some people will tell you bacon needs just one day of celebration, but they’re wrong). This year, I’d like to address something that’s bothered me for some time. Bacon as a food item has so much energy behind it. There are Facebook groups dedicated to it. Blogs. Books. T-shirts. No other food has inspired such devotion, or such great number of tchotchkes. As someone at the largest bacon tchotchke retailer once told me, when asked why bacon is so inspiring, “It’s a multisensory food. It’s got smell, texture, sound and taste rolled up into one.”

And yet, bacon in most of our lives remains commodity. My neighborhood grocer carries just a few kinds, all variants on corporate bacon, anonymous, industrially-raised pigs, processed and packaged with low price as the primary goal. Meanwhile, the store carries more than 20 different types of honey, but you don’t see blogs being written about bee secretion. Wendy’s, maker of the infamous “Baconator,” uses pre-cooked, microwave-warmed bacon for its signature sandwich. Bacos™ are vegan. Let me repeat that for you. Bacos™ are VEGAN.

Something is wrong, and my goal this week is two-fold: celebrate our favorite food, but also to expose the brighter side of pork, the small batch producer who cares as much (or more) for his animals and flavor as he does his bottom line. I’d like to call your attention to altruistic bacon. It exists, it’s tasty, and it’s worth seeking out. I hope you’ll stay tuned.