Loving bacon, wrong or right

This is a love story of sorts. Like many women, I am drawn to an individual that is – according to many — no good for me, yet I cannot resist. Our encounters are illicit and all-too-infrequent, whether they take place in public places or the privacy of my home. The moments together are always cherished, yet somehow tinged with guilt.

I know loving bacon is wrong, but – for now, at least — I don’t want to be right.

I grew up on a scaffolding of salty strips. Bacon was a breakfast foundation, and to this day on mornings when I am visiting my parents, my father and I dip our hands into the platter of curled meatiness between us as if we were grazing on a bowl of pistachios. While it was prevalent in my youth, it is somewhat a rarity in my adult life, a guilty pleasure – they are needed. Bacon is the naughtiest thing I do (beyond gravy, please read November entry), so I partake in secret (well, not really all that secret), when my longtime friend and collaborator – not a huge bacon fan (how can this be?) – is away, the cat does play. A pound of bacon comes out of the freezer and my eyelids begin to swell at the mere suggestion of all the sodium.

I think the beauty of loving bacon is that there is no way in the world any of us can cloak the fact that bacon is not good for us. But its smoky aroma, its taste, its crunchy fatty chewiness is beyond resistance. So we’ll indulge – within reason. Don’t give in to the restaurant-themed bacon fests that are orgies of gluttony. Have some dignity. An affair of the heart needn’t be a sacrifice of one’s sensibilities.

Being in the month of Valentines, I bring you an ode to a longtime affair, with some thoughts and ideas on bacon. Look beyond the heart cards to ALL your true loves (including yourself!). When the chocolate box is empty and the flowers have faded, remember love. It is all that remains.

Baking and bacon

Some years back, I decided to try making bacon in the oven. I had a pet who was sensitive to the sounds and smells of cooking on the stovetop, so I was willing to find any way to spare her of that. Baking bacon is easy and works well. Just lay strips of bacon on a cookie sheet (I line mine with nonstick foil for easy clean up. You can also use a baking rack on the sheet to let fat drip away from the bacon). Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Cook the bacon from 12 to 14 minutes, depending on your bacon thickness and your desired level of crispness – AWS likes her bacon a little limp, like her men (just kidding)! A few slices of bacon with jam on toasted bread, and I am in heaven.


Why not bake WITH bacon as well? I found a recipe for bacon scones and, given my self-imposed moniker, how could I not make them? These scones are delicious, surprisingly light (especially surprising since I added cheddar cheese to them) and moist from the juicy bits of sautéed onions flavoring them. The dough is tender and easy to work with, cut into triangles and given a sheen with an egg wash, the scones bake off into as lovely and sophisticated a bread you would want to serve with soup or salad or a holiday meal.

Yankee Bacon and Onion Scones
(Adapted from “Biscuit Bliss: 101 Foolproof Recipes for Fresh and Fluffy Biscuits in Just Minutes” by James Villas)
Makes 1 dozen scones

3 strips lean bacon
1 medium-sized onion, minced
2 cups all purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
½ teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon salt
Black pepper to taste
¼ cup chilled lard, cut into bits (I used a combination of shortening and butter)
1 cup finely shredded cheddar cheese
1 cup buttermilk
1 large egg
1 teaspoon water

In a skillet, fry the bacon over moderate heat til crisp and drain on paper towels. Add the onion to the skillet, stir till softened, about 2 minutes, and drain on paper towels. Crumble the bacon finely.

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees. Grease a large baking sheet and set aside.

In a large mixing bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt and pepper, add the lard and work it in with your fingertips till the mixture is crumbly. Add the bacon, onion and cheese and stir till well blended. Add the buttermilk and stir just till a sticky dough forms.

Transfer the dough to a lightly floured work surface, knead 8 to 10 times, and pat into a rectangle ¾-inch thick. With a sharp knife, cut the rectangle in half lengthwise, and cut each half crosswise into 6 long narrow triangles.

Arrange the triangles on the prepared baking sheet, about 1 inch apart. In a small bowl, whisk the egg and water, brush the tops of the triangles lightly with the mixture, and bake in the center of the oven till just golden, 12 to 15 minutes.

Bacon as a condiment

Yes, I’ve had a hot dog with bacon on it. I’m one of those people. Perhaps some would consider this pig-on-pig action somewhat revolting and certainly gluttonous. To me, it was a fine companionship – two kindred spirits on the bun. It’s no secret that bacon’s taste and texture make it a perfect condiment, whether topping a dog, a baked potato, or serving as the swizzle stick in a Bacon Bloody Mary (make mine a virgin, please).

Bacon as condiment is also bacon of a smaller portion, if this helps you justify a dab of bacon here or there, like a floral cologne imparting just the right whiff.


Spinach salad with bacon is a classic. A vinaigrette with bacon as a base flavor is made warm enough to wilt the greens, which are needed – again – to counterbalance a dalliance with bacon. I recently tried this salad recipe and found the sweet/salty taste of the dressing nearly letter-perfect as a condiment.

Spinach Salad with Warm Bacon Dressing
(Recipe adapted from The Deen Family, www.foodtv.com)

Bacon Dressing:
5 slices bacon
1 1/2 tablespoons finely chopped shallot
1/2 cup red wine vinegar
2 tablespoons honey mustard, or more to taste
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
Spinach Salad:
8 cups fresh spinach leaves, stems removed
8 ounces white button mushrooms (about 2 1/2 cups), thinly sliced
1/2 red onion, thinly sliced

In a skillet add the bacon and cook over medium heat until crisp. Using a slotted spoon transfer the bacon to a paper towel lined plate to drain. Roughly chop and set aside.

Pour off all but 2 tablespoons of fat from the skillet. Heat the remaining fat over medium-high heat, add the shallots and cook for 2 minutes, stirring occasionally. Whisk in the vinegar, desired amount of mustard, and salt and pepper, to taste. Scrape the brown bits from the bottom of the skillet, bring to a simmer, then remove the skillet from the heat.

For the salad, in a large salad bowl, toss together the spinach, mushrooms, bacon and onion. Pour the dressing over the salad and toss to combine. Serve warm.

Bacon by any other name

I joked with a friend once that my love of salted cured meats ran so deep that if I had children, my boy would be named Prosciutto and my little girl, Pancetta. While I’m not as big a fan of the real prosciutto, a VERY salty Italian ham sliced so thin you could read through it, but pancetta, an Italian bacon, has come into play numerous times for me on culinary adventures.

Pancetta is salt-cured, but not smoked, and sometimes spiced with peppercorns, nutmeg, fennel, etc. It comes in thin lean round slices, cut from a roll, and lends an excellent, lighter subtext of flavor to dishes than bolder American bacon. I’ve used it as a base flavor for stew and crumbled it into pasta dishes. A friend has made my mind spin with tales of shrimp wrapped in pancetta capes and cooked on the grill…yet to be explored…

Some years back, I became obsessed with pasta carbonara, a very simple dish incorporating both eggs and bacon – pancetta – as a sauce. I first saw it in the movie “Heartburn” (quite a terrible love story), where Meryl Streep cooks up a big bowl of it for Jack Nicholson and they devour it together (you can fast-forward to about 6:30 on this clip to get to the carbonara part).

It made me hungry, not for the kind of love they shared, but certainly for the bacon-laden spaghetti between them.

I searched high and low for recipes, watched experts concocting carbonara on TV. It seemed easy to make…the trick was the speed with which you blended the beaten eggs (mixed with cooked pancetta, parmesan cheese and other ingredients, like garlic) to the just cooked pasta, so that the heat from the pasta cooks the eggs, but keeps them creamy, not stringy and scrambled.

I’ve since made carbonara many times, sometimes with linguine for a more toothy pasta, sometimes with delicate angel hair as a mere whisper to carry the creamy, comforting decadence. I’ve added a little cream, crushed garlic and lemon zest to give layers of flavor to a sumptuous one-dish meal.

Spaghetti alla Carbonara
(From “Saveur” Magazine, www.saveur.com)
Serves 4

4 tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil
4 oz. thinly sliced guanciale or pancetta cut
into ½” pieces
2 tsp. freshly cracked black pepper, plus more
to taste
1 ¾ cups finely grated Parmesan
1 egg plus 3 yolks
Kosher salt, to taste
1 lb. spaghetti

Heat oil in a 10″ skillet over medium heat. Add guanciale and
cook, stirring occasionally, until lightly browned, 6–8 minutes.
Add pepper and cook, stirring occasionally, until fragrant, 2
minutes more. Transfer guanciale mixture to a large bowl and let
cool slightly; stir in 1 ½ cups Parmesan and egg and yolks and stir
to combine; set aside.

Meanwhile, bring a 6-qt. pot of salted water to a boil. Add pasta;
cook until al dente, 8–10 minutes. Reserve ¾ cup water; drain
pasta and transfer it to guanciale mixture. Toss, adding pasta
water a little at a time to make a creamy sauce. Season with salt
and pepper; serve with remaining Parmesan.

Bacon as a compliment

I saw a coffee mug not long ago that read, “Bacon is Meat Candy.” But have you heard of bacon as candy?

Beloved bacon – bethemed on Denny’s restaurant menu — has found its way into mints, lollipops, jelly beans and even gourmet chocolate bars. Vosges Chocolates, a longtime purveyor of high-end confections laced with such exotic ingredients as curry, wasabi and chile peppers, has its own line of bacon-infused chocolate bars and truffles. I’ve had dark chocolate with sea salt – wouldn’t a dark chocolate bacon bar be just another extension of that kind of salty on sweet?

I’ve tried both the milk and dark chocolate versions of this bar. I’m partial to dark chocolate (let’s just say, I want my chocolate as dark as the bottom of my soul), so I found myself quite taken with two great loves joined together. The dark base of smooth yet heavy bitter chocolate is lifted and lightened by chewy niblets of crunchy salt and smoke. I gave my parents each a bacon chocolate bar not long ago, and my father offered a more succinct (and accurate) description: “Tastes like you just ate breakfast and started in on some candy.”

Could a dark chocolate bacon bar be a perfect food? Not the right phrase…maybe more like the perfect treat. Dark chocolate, somewhat sophisticated and touted to be good for the heart, meets bacon, a pure pagan creature that — beyond a little protein — offers nothing for one’s health (especially circulation), but certainly heightens one’s mood. Maybe they are like water and earth signs, good for each other in balance, and in that way, good for the taster of their union, in brief moments.

Romance is fleeting, but always remembered.

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