Finally - Bacon done right in a Product!

Regular readers of my column will recall that I have reviewed and subsequently eschewed both Bacon Salt and Baconnaise. They are bad, chemically infused imitations of the truth, the bacon salt especially.

I then formally declared far and wide, to all those who would listen to my ramblings, that bacon is ONLY good in its original form. You cannot transform it into another substance. And so it was said and the people all obeyed me as they are wont to do.

BUT! I have been proven wrong in the form of Mo's Bacon Bar -- a product of a newish chocolate company - Vosges Haut Chocolate.

This is a tiny little picture, I know, but the real box is a thing of beauty. And the chocolate, well it worked! I was a bit dubious, given that the main ingredients on the box are listed as:

• applewood smoked bacon
• alderwood smoked salt (although I am recent convert to the salt + chocolate combo)
• deep milk chocolate (not my usual favorite, but they have just come out with a dark chocolate bacon bar! Let the world rejoice!)

But it found just the right balance -- the bacon actually hit your taste buds first, then, unexpectedly blossomed into chocolate. And, rather than seeming out of place, it was like a sense of deja vu, "oh there you are bacon and chocolate combination. I've always known about you in my heart of hearts."

Now, I could engage in a hearty round of mea culpa, but, upon careful inspection of the chocolate (the things I do for you people!), I find that I am actually seeing little bits of bacon embedded in the chocolate, so I am not wrong. Bacon is best in its original form and yummy when intertwined with chocolate.

But let me leave you with the words of the founder of Vosges Chocolate, who almost seems like a Colette for food. Her goal is to "Travel the World through Chocolate in a mission to create a sustainable, luxury chocolate experience, to bring about awareness of indigenous cultures through the exploration of spices, herbs, roots, flowers, fruits, nuts, and the obscure."

And, here's how she (or a very clever copy-writer who is clearly my twin) describes this bar (I do like that she's a bit of a food whore like me):

"Breathe…engage your five senses, close your eyes and inhale deeply. Be in the present moment, notice the color of the chocolate, the glossy shine. Rub your thumb over the chocolate bar to release the aromas of smoked applewood bacon flirting with deep milk chocolate. Snap off just a tiny piece and place it in your mouth, let the lust of salt and sweet coat your tongue. "

I almost want to tell her to get a room, but I know where she's coming from. Enjoy!

A Treatise on Bacon Salt

As I sit here at my computer (obviously), listening to a variety of tunes on Random Play (Fleetwood Mac, then Green Day, then Shirley Temple. Awesome) after spending entirely too long on Facebook (or Crackbook), I am aware of the transient nature of technology and community and networking and music. We all flow apart, then sometimes find each other again, at different places in life, but still connecting on the same old jokes and shared memories. Then sometimes you start to build something new, some new strange connection that initially makes no sense, but in your new life, with your new hair and your new love of mushrooms and possible acceptance that everything Neil Diamond recorded wasn't total crap, it makes sense.

Sort of like Bacon Salt. "You have a friend request from Bacon Salt."

On first take, it makes no sense. Bacon is meat and salt is a condiment. Does not compute. They are two different substances. They serve two different purposes. But then you stop and think about the experience of eating bacon. Of course, there's the delicious sizzling smell, the grease squirt as you bite into a perfectly cooked piece, the feel of the slice in your hand (only heathens and lovers of zuchini bread cut their bacon with a knife and fork), and the flavor of the bacon sliding down your throat, the tingling salt and nitrates.

Stop! Salt?

Hmmm...maybe this does make sense. Bacon is very salty due to all the preservatives and smoking and things they do to it to turn it from pig into bacon (I just re-read "Little House in the Big Woods" and I know all about this process now.) So...what is bacon flavor? Is it the actual meat or is it the chemicals that go into the processing of the meat? What came first -- the meat or the chemicals (or condiments) that create the bacon?

Sometimes I like bacon bits on my salad. I always like salt. What if the two were combined? Would I get the succulent crackling sensation or would I get more of a chemical burning of my taste buds?

So, I put bacon salt on my salad. And I am sad to report that I found that I missed the meat. The chemical burning won out. It was just too...too...unnatural. The flavor was too removed from the actual flavor of the food. I like bacon flavor, but I also need the fat, the grease, the slice in my hand to fully enjoy the experience. I'll just have my salt separately.

I am ignoring the Friend Request from Bacon Salt.

What's this? A Friend Request from Baconnaise? Hmm...I shall have to explore

A Cold Spring and a blind date that just didn't work...

We had turkey breast for dinner tonight and I was really looking forward to my version of comfort food -- Lemon, Dill, & Caper sauce accompanied by a salad with a nice garlicky, anchovy-heavy, balsamic vinaigrette homemade by me while Baby Balsamic begged for a taste of the Dijon mustard which I used to spike the dressing.

But as I wiped my turkey in the tangy, course sauce, it just didn't do it for me. The turkey was too dense, too dry to be a moist home for my chosen condiment. I needed a hot and sour cranberry variation (sometimes the old standards are standards for a reason). Chicken is a bit juicier and sweeter than it's larger, dumber brother Turkey. Although this musing is making me wonder what the perfect condiment would be for a Turducken? I ended up breaking up pieces of turkey, under the glaring eye of the turkey cook, Mr. Mustard, and adding it to my salad. It worked great with the figs and avocado.

Maybe it's the cold spring weather that's making me peevish, but when a favored condiment doesn't go with something you think it will, it's like the entire Universe spins a little more crazily out of whack. And I'm out of Norman Bishop G*D mustard. Sigh.

Tomorrow morning is mother's day and I'm fully expecting my favorite bacon recipe that involves the bacon being coated with brown sugar, a bit of black pepper and a bit of cayenne pepper. I don't think the cold spring day could take away my joy in that dish.

Condiment Grrl