Burns My Bacon: It’s What’s Inside That Counts

I was a very plain and picky eater growing up. I ate two kinds of bagels: plain and cinnamon raisin. Back then, I didn’t even use cream cheese, just butter.

Eventually I branched out, jumping right into everything bagels with cream cheese, (extra cream cheese). When the whole grain wave hit I made the move toward multi-grain and whole wheat bagels, but I desperately missed the adorning seeds.

While visiting BS in Brooklyn he showed off a neighborhood bagelry, Bagel World, that sold whole grain seeded bagels. I was pumped, hoping that the trend – like all trends – would travel outward from New York.

And why the hell not. Whole wheat is not a flavor, it’s a base. Put some fucking seeds on it.

But then I saw something even better:

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Eatin’ Me Some Emu

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NYE 2009 took me to the West Coast, where a couple of friends, my other half and I rented a cute little house in the Santa Ynez Valley near the Danish village of Solvang, which is famous for its wine, windmills, rolling mountains and the awful movie Sideways.

I could write about how beautiful the scenery was and how amazing the wines we tasted were but that really isn’t interesting compared to the amazing find I discovered — Ostrichland USA. In between Solvang and Buellton in the Santa Ynez Valley, this place is easy to miss, but well worth seeking out if only to gawk at the horrendously ugly and aggressive creatures that are the ostrich and emu, certainly a photo moment. But feeding these beasts and photo opportunities is not all this place has to offer…the foodie in me kicked in the moment I saw these monsters. I hit the brakes, turned the car around and said, “I want to eat that.”

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Artsy Photo of the Day

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Inspiring little girls to eat, well, something. Circa 1986.

[Found in Miss Pixie’s]

The Reverse Exorcism of Sandra Lee

photo-15I felt slimy. Sneaky. Tricky. Wrong. Very Wrong.

And then freed. I found freedom. Sandra Lee led me to the land of jarred dips and a delicious brunch dish.

Don’t judge.

It was 11:30 and I just woke up. Perfect timing, actually, because my friend Vi’s brunch party started at 11:30.

I called Vi and she was still in bed too. Relief. But I still had to figure out what to bring.

I knew her and BS built this layered french toasty dish with potato bread, bananas, blueberry, eggs, Jiffy batter, and I forget what else, to sit overnight before being baked before the party. I slathered it with syrup and pretended it was dessert.

But that didn’t help me.

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Happy National Scrapple Day!

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I think it’s hilarious that today is “National” Scrapple Day, considering: (1) you can only get the stuff in a relatively small portion of the country and (2) in places where it is available, a solid 85% of the people won’t touch the stuff.  But maybe what this horrendously under-appreciated delight needs is a day of observance to boost its reputation.

For those of you who don’t live in the mid-Atlantic states, I suppose that scrapple deserves a little explanation. Essentially, it’s a meat product made using pig offal.  After the butchers have taken the “desirable” cuts off the pig, the rest gets boiled, the meat is minced and grain (cornmeal, usually) and spices are added to thicken the mixture into a loaf.

Once it gets to your kitchen or diner, it’s either pan- or deep-fried and what you get is a wonderful slice that is crunchy on the outside, smooth and creamy on the inside.  There is a rich, meaty flavor here that you’re never going to get from a lifeless cut of meat like a quick-fry pork chop.  Do yourself a favor and stop in a diner during your next trip through South Jersey or Eastern Pennsylvania.

I understand that scrapple can be scary.  Shit, just the word is creepy. There’s the vaguely Germanic sound and the unfortunate inclusion of “scrap” and/or “crap.” But what really gets me is when I tell someone how much I enjoy it and they come back with: “But don’t you know what’s in that?!?”  Yes, I do, which makes me like it even more.  Here’s why…

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Breadless BLT

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Living a block from the 14 & U St. Farmers Market and working a few blocks from the White House Farmers Market there is little reason for me to venture to any of the other markets in the city, unless of course ES’ own Gansie is working it. This past Saturday I battled the rain and headed north to Mt. Pleasant, and let me tell you, the weather was not so pleasant. The market might be smaller than most in the city but it doesn’t stop short of selling everything the others do, I went in search of chili peppers for a cook-off at work- but that’s for another post.

As I was perusing for the great deal on habaneros, poblanos and jalapeños, my eye wandered over to the fresh meats, since I needed some beef round for my chili. Instead it was the bacon that caught my eye, naturally. A whole slab of bacon, I’d seen these before but not really thought much of it, I bought some anyway figuring I could make a delicious treat- and that I did.

Before heading home I went over to Gansie to show her what I had bought and she too marveled at the bacon, immediately, without hesitation she suggested I make a breadless BLT, and without hesitation, I said OK.

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