Bacon Goes Big

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You know how all you across-the-pond folks always brag about how thick and delicious British bacon is and love to deride our streaky American bacon as weak, flimsy, and not worth it? Well, I’m putting you all on notice.

I recently sat down at the bar at The General Greene, one of the many farm-to-table, haute barnyard chic restaurants that has opened in Brooklyn over the last few years. I wanted a little snack to go with my $9 handcrafted cocktail, so we ordered a side of candied bacon. Honestly, I wasn’t expecting much—maybe a bowl of crumbled, caramelized bits that would be gone in 60 seconds.

Um, no. Candied bacon here is basically an entire meal. It’s your standard smoky, salty, American-style bacon (with an added sweet touch), but instead of slicing it into thin, fryable strips, they just serve you the whole damn belly, and you eat it with a knife and fork. Seeing a big, streaky hunk of pig belly served like that is cool because it kinda shows you how they get those tiny slices of bacon out of a big slab of pork. I think I even said out loud “oh, so that’s where bacon comes from.”

OK, so it’s basically like eating five slices of bacon in one bite. So maybe don’t order the whole thing for yourself, or more than once a year. But I gotta give credit to anyone who can still surprise me with bacon.

More: The Best of New Brooklyn Cuisine

More Bacon: Recipes, raves and other bacon bits in Endless Bacon.

(Photo: The General Greene)

Parsnips are the New Prozac

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I’m cranky. Yea, I’m cranky. That’s what it is. It’s been a cold (but, I have to admit, awesomely snowy) winter. And a long winter. It’s March and I’m still cold.

I haven’t cooked anything worth a fucking dime. And I hate that expression. But it’s true. Sure, I’ve discovered cottage cheese and smoked whitefish, but then what?

Nothing.

I need the summer’s farmers market. I need to be surrounded with tomatoes and eggplants and zucchinis. I need spring.

While the warmth won’t be coming for many more weeks, I did find something to keep me happy about the abundance of root vegetables. And it was at my neighborhood pizza place. I know, weird.

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Burns My Bacon: Never-Ending Salad Ingredients

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Before I became food-obsessed I was very happy eating chicken caesar salads all of the time.

ALL OF THE TIME.

I ate them as a starter salad, as an entree, and once in a while – in a wrap. My favorite chicken caesar salad wrap is from the chain, SaladWorks. My sister and I would always eat there whenever I came home from college. I’m trying to think back on our orders: I would sub-in hard boiled eggs for croutons, and I think she kept the croutons in, but maybe added tomato? Sherry – remember?

Unfortunately, there are no SaladWorks in my area (although I just discovered the closest was in the dreaded land of University of Maryland’s College Park). I have long desired a similar concept in DC. I wanted lots of salad and wrap choices. Both stock orders and make-your-own.

In the past couple years, however, DC has caught on to the salad bar trend: Sweetgreen, Chop’t, Mixt Greens… And just like cupcakes, we take that trend and turn it into a never-ending nightmare. Yes, nightmare.

And now what I’ve asked for. Well, I’m regretting it. I just can’t get into the over-stuffed salads. I’m never satisfied when I choose my own, usually with spinach, chickpeas, avocado, goat cheese and beets. Which sounds freaking awesome, but is somehow dry. Or there’s not enough avocado. In fact at Chop’t they so heavily beat the avocado into the salad that instead of supple chunks, the avocado coats all the ingredients without any real avocado texture and flavor.

Maybe I can’t select the proper combination when there are so many choices and when I like so many different ingredients. And the salads and wraps that are created by the chef, well, it’s hard to choose that option when there’s the opportunity to create my own.

Should I just return to romaine, chicken and parm cheese?

(Photo @ Mixt Greens by Endless Simmer)

We Don’t Have Coke

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I am never early for anything in my life. And I’m barely ever on time. Late. Late. Late. So when I arrived at my friend Whitney’s bridal shower at exactly 11 am—showered, hung over, and pleased with my sexy parking spot with 51 minutes already stacked in the meter—I was of course, very proud of myself. Then I tried to open the door and it was locked. Yea, Farmers & Fishers wasn’t open. Panic. The manager came over and unlocked the door.

Manager: “We’re not open yet, we open at 11:30.”

Me: <Took a step back, swinging head from side to side, am I at the right restaurant? What day is it? Am I that hung over? Fuck.> “Um.”

Manager: “Are you here for the bridal shower.”

Me: <Phew!!!> “Yes.”

Manager: “It doesn’t start until 12. But you’re welcome to sit at the bar and wait.”

Me: <Are you FUCKING KIDDING ME?!?! The bar! I can’t even look at alcohol. Kill me.> Oh man. I’m never early for anything. Thanks. And where can I get some change for my meter?”

Manager: “The bar.”

After feeding the meter, I play on my iPhone for an hour (at the seat next to the host stand), mostly flipping through pictures of magnificent dresses on the Style.com app. When we get in the private room I’m offered wine. Instead I ask for a Coke.

Server: “We don’t have Coke…”

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How To Make Your Water Sparkle

For Liza’s birthday, her mom (Ruby Girl) bought her Sodastream, a DIY sparkling water maker. Liza is an avid sparkling water drinker and a major environmentalist, so this gift was right-on. The Sodastream machine also turns water into: cola, ginger ale, tonic and lemonade. While the upfront price tag is a bit high – like most things green – the end result will both save on dollars and waste – also like most things green.

Enjoy Liza’s sparkling demo:

Ask Todd, Answer Gansie: Who Is a Foodie?

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What used to be a semi-regular feature, where I would pretend to know as much about dining as the Washington Post restaurant critic, has trailed off. Tom Sietsema‘s food chats became either bigĀ  bitch fests (yes, children eat at restaurants, shut up about it already) or intricate critiques of not so exciting DC dining establishments, so I haven’t kept up in relating the interesting questions back to you.

The Washingtonian retains its own restaurant critic and hosts its own food chat. I don’t read Todd Kliman‘s chats, save for the snipet I get emailed to me every week. I’m usually entertained, but never was I so intrigued until I read this question.

Washington, DC: Can a vegetarian/vegan be a “foodie”?

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As the Saying Goes: What You Don’t Know…

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Apparently, a few weeks ago, all of the food in Philadelphia got a whole lot less healthy for you overnight.

I’m not sure exactly how it happened, but things I had been eating with regularity — burritos, hamburgers and bagels — had immediately gone from perfectly reasonable lunchtime fare to only-as-a-special-occasion indulgence with startling speed. OK, so the food didn’t actually get worse…it was just that Philly became the latest city to institute a new rule requiring chain restaurants to post calorie counts for all menu items.

This is no fun.

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