5 things you didn't know or you might not have known or maybe forgot or that I just wanted to say about bacon.

In our house we call bacon magic because it is magic—salty, sweet, chewy, crispy, tender, silky magic.  One minute you're hungry, the next you are picking your teeth in a food buzz, lucky, smart and good looking.  Viola.

1.  You can bake bacon.  This is not news, but it bears repeating. The eggs need your attention more than the bacon, but bacon ignored can lead to flaws. Cast iron has hot spots. Frying pans make a mess. Put some foil on a rimmed baking sheet, put magic slices on the foil and bake until you reach your desired level of sorcery.

2. You can eat "raw" bacon.  You can eat eggs raw too, doesn't mean you should. Here's the logic: we get our bacon from a charcuterie, local, pastured, honest and good. Tony, the charcutier hot smokes the bellies and then slices them thick and thin making magic. Internal temp reaches 150+, way beyond the perishing point of the trichinella round worm which wasn't even present in the pastured, heritage belly anyway. Part of the magic of magic is linked to it's preparation. Render some of the fat. Brown some of the sugar present in the flesh. Make it crispy, but not too. This is proper bacon. If it is hot-smoked and artisanal you could dispense with the heat—I just love knowing it's possible—but it's better if you don't. If you have store-bought cellophane bacon you also have a bonus of nitrate slurry, liquid "smoke" and conveyor line hog belly.  You don't need to cook this either, if you follow me.

3. It's easy to make at home.  Not cook, make, produce, go from belly to bacon. If you have the right equipment, know what to do and do it right, homemade bacon is a snap. You need a smoker, a meat lug, plastic wrap, ingredients. A meat slicer is optional but super handy.  It goes like this:  get a 5lb piece of belly.  Coat it in a dry brine. Wrap it up tight in plastic wrap. Tighter. Tighter. Good. Put it in the lug, put the lug in the fridge. Put a weight on the belly: a cast iron whatever, a brick, another meat lug with floor tiles in it. Flip the belly once a day. Re-weight. After a week or so, remove the belly, rinse and let dry uncovered in the fridge for a day.  This is called making the pellicle which you will learn all about when you research what to do and how to do it right. When the belly is ready, hang it in the smoker at about 200 degrees. Drink beer, contemplate the smoke and its groovy shapes. Sic transit gloria mundi.  Drink more. Don't peek in the smoker unless you want more beer because peeking extends smoke time.  Tell some good ones, stories, jokes, lies, whatever you got. When you're at temp you got bacon.  Behold the ham of god which taketh away the sin of store-bought.

4. Bacon sausage is a real thing.  I've had it.  It's a naturally-cased, fresh sausage, made with bacon, even better than you can imagine.  A little bit Houdini, a little bit Penn and Teller.  Amalgamated magic.  See your (or my) charcutier.

5. You can deep-fry bacon.  But don't.



Couple other food-ish posts on this blog, in case you were looking:

http://pottercjp.blogspot.com/2013/10/what-we-think-about-when-we-think-about.html

http://pottercjp.blogspot.com/2013/09/take-gun-leave-cannoli.html

Beans and Rice (Short Course)

Our species figured out a long time ago that in the absence of animal flesh, grain + legume = tasty, satisfying protein work-around. I'm no anthropologist but guessing this is why just about every culture has a version. The combo gets you all the amino acids, i.e., a complete protein. Apply a good method and well-chosen ancillary ingredients and you find deliciousness. The mixture is SO tasty and satisfying that for many it is not a work-around but the default. They're not wrong.  How do you make beans and rice?  It's really very simple: how do you make a gin and tonic?  The recipe is the name.  And it's engagingly complex: what KIND of beans and rice do you want?  American? Asian? Caribbean? There are headings to take, options to weigh, decisions to make.  I'll help you get started.

On the beans axis you have the usual suspects: red, black, pinto, lentil etc.  A pounder bag of beans is among the cheapest, easiest, tastiest foods available.  On the rice axis you also have familiar elements: long, short, white, brown, wild, aromatic. White is usually first in line, but make what you like.  Organize your thinking around the intersection of choices while keeping in mind additions, including meat and veggies, but also simmering liquids and spices.  Here are some time honored versions.  The only thing you MUST do is this: make 'em scratch. You know why. You know how.

Moros y Christianos:  Black beans (the Moors) and white rice (the Christians) are an ecumenical church for your palate. Garlic and cumin are pretty much essential. Onions and tomatoes and peppers make nice additions, if you have the inclination. I'd been making this, my gringo version for years with much self-satisfaction. Cuban neighbors moved in next door and I proudly took them a batch. They were touchingly polite, but kinda like, amigo, why all the stuff in mix? Their version, which I swoon for, was quite spare: the black, the white, garlic, cumin, green onion garnish, much dryer than you'd think, but so right. The perfect cerdo side.

Hoppin' John:  Black-eyed peas over (usually white) rice, American southern, low-country, awesome with collards and begging for Tabasco. Black-eyes are beans, thanks, or a sign you need headgear. In this version give all your love to the beans, serve them over a properly prepared rice. Cook the "peas" with the trinity (onion, celery, bell pep), garlic, thyme, bay, bird stock. A ham-hock is almost always called for, but country ham, bacon or just lard won't be downgrades, just variations of sensational. Play around with it.

Gallo Pinto:  Spotted cock bird, or rooster if you call an ass a donkey. This is the Costa Rican national beans and rice dish and not to be missed. Black beans usually, pintos, of course, if you like.  Similarly to Moors and Christians, these can bear many additions, but more often you find them unadorned save for some garlic, cilantro, lime. Cook beans. Cook rice. Combine and garnish.  Keep them on the dry side and you'll keep on the authentic side. Don't let authentic get in the way of good, however. Fill a morning tortilla with gallo pinto and eggs and you'll eat enough to skip lunch.

Red beans and rice:  The pinnacle, really. Traditionally a Monday meal that could cook all day without much attention while you did the laundry and ironing.  I don't laundry or iron.  What you do is your business. Red beans and rice is a sacramental meal in our house. Use top quality kidneys, trinity, garlic, thyme, bay, your best chicken stock, a ham hock. Think like you're making a bean stew because you are. Simmer long and slow. When the ham hock is falling apart you're almost there. Pull the fibula and tibia out, chop up the ham, put it back in the pot. Reduce to desired viscosity. I like to think, "if this were soup would it be too thick?"  If the answer is yes, that's just right. If you have andouille on hand it is evidence of your surpassing intelligence and good taste. Dice it up, throw it in. As for the rice, plain old jasmine won't let you down. Cajun boiled rice with lardo butter is heavenly. Pop-corn rice is hard to find, but sooo worth it. Garnish with quick-pickled red onions and all your trouble will seem so far away.

The list is hardly exhaustive.  More like a greatest hits than a survey.  The deep cuts will call for different simmering liquids, more exotic spices, new kinds of beans. Jelly? Coffee?  Coconut milk will get you to the Caribbean and points east, where you might end up using saffron.  Lentils and rice.  Green beans and rice.  Make it up as you go along.  Let them come to you in a dream.  The world is our legume and grain mixing bowl.