“Late Night Bacon” by Rachael Ray

November 12, 2010

Rachael Ray posted a “recipe” explaining how to make bacon on paper towels in the microwave. (um. bacon. paper towels. microwave.)

The comments are really funny:

Hi Rach, read this and right away I wanted to try it but I didnt have paper towels so I figured Id just hold it while I microwave it, its only a couple minutes and I figured I would be eating it right away any how. My hand kinda hurt and then I didnt feel much like eating after. Im sure its fantastic. Got to go now typing webmd.com with one hand is pretty tricky. I think pictures would have helpful. Bye.

I tried a variation of this recipe, I put the whole pig in a brown paper bag and the results were equally stunning.

I made this in my EZ bake oven. It took nine days. On the fourth day, the bulb burnt out so I replaced it with one from a tanning bed. Five days later, out came Snooki.
How do I get her to leave?

Go here for more.
Thanks, Peneycad.

PS, everyone knows the proper way to make bacon is to cover it in sugar.


Bacon Fruit Cups

May 20, 2010

OMG OMG OMG

Wait, you made little cups out of bacon and then filled them with basil, aioli, avocado, mango chunks, and caramelized onion confit? And then you dusted them with homemade bacon powder? Where do I line up to join your church?

I do not really like making high-prep recipes, but srsly? Can you imagine?
I think I’d fill these with roasted pineapple or mango chunks + gooey charred mini marshmallows on baby lettuce leaves and call it a day.

Via Instructables.

Oh and what’s that? You want to see my recipe for Candied Bacon again? Okay here.


Bacon is good for me!

September 4, 2009

“I had a very very calm day till this. A little bump in the road comes and she be’s sarcastic!”
Thanks to Kelly for the tip.


This is Why You’re Fat

June 14, 2009

This is why you’re fat. A website with really ridiculous photos of fatty foods. Bacon and/or batter play starring roles on most of these dishes:

Battered & deep-fried Cadbury Creme Egg

Battered & deep-fried Cadbury Creme Egg

This is why you’re thin. A website started in retaliation by the elaborate lunch-making mom from Vegan Lunch Box:

Uh... this weird candy I found that wasn't as sweet and had a crappy shelf life.

Uh... this weird candy I found that wasn't as sweet and had a crappy shelf life.

So far the fatties are totally winning. A butter-drenched cheesy bacon corn muffin kicks the ass of steamed tempeh loaf so damn hard.


Guest post: Kalman made bacon, by Kalman Androsofszky

June 2, 2009

My pal Kalman wrote a guest post in response to Candied Bacon: Do Not Bring to a Jewish Dinner Party, in which I describe how I made Candied Bacon, and how I brought it to a Jewish Dinner Party, which was uncomfortable.

Thou fine exalted salted swine, my heart melteth (and cloggeth) for thee

Thou fine exalted salted swine, my heart melteth (and cloggeth) for thee

My candied bacon experience
by Kalman Andrasofszky

I was going to a potluck. I decided to make candied bacon. The end.

Just kidding.

What the above fails to mention is the potluck in question was a “Thanksgiving dinner for Easter” potluck. I felt certain that what all that turkey, gravy, stuffing and potatoes needed to really hum, was some candied bacon.

Because I am pathologically incapable of following any set of instructions (particularly recipes) to the letter, I just had to muck with it. I added a little dark beer (Wellington Country Ale, if you must know) to the brown sugar/maple syrup mixture.

I should mention that this was my first time using the oven in my new(ish) place. I learned that day, that it’s an anti-tardis, meaning the inside is MUCH smaller than it appears on the outside. So I had to incrementally add more raw bacon, as the bacon already cooking within shrank and made room. This added some complication and a measure of stress to what should have been an intricate, but reasonably straightforward process.

Upon sampling my fine pile of snipped up candied bacon I was shocked to find that it tasted like, well, bacon. All that careful drizzling, and checking, and turning, and blue smoke for what could have been achieved in 4 minutes in a skillet? Had my “improvement” on the recipe been in fact a de-provement??

Nay!

Somehow in transit, magic happened, and the candied bacon transmogrified itself into crispy little fragments of heaven. Everyone fiended for it, and I could have sworn I busted my friend Tom, surreptitiously licking out the tupperware I’d brought it in. I was the hero of the day, and the young lady who toiled all day to make the turkey got nary a glance. WIN!

Two greasy thumbs up!

- Kalman Andrasofzsky is an illustrator who lives in Toronto.

Yaaay bacon success! Thanks for the story, Kalman!

I guess this is kind of the second guest post on Pageslap (the first was Shannon & Shannon’s funny video version of “My Acting”). But listen, you guys, I’m really damn lazy and am happy to have more. You can write me little thingies and send them to me and I will probably post them here. So, yeah!


Candied Bacon

April 5, 2009

I bring candied bacon to dinner parties.

On Friday Reuben was in town & invited me & Scott to dinner at RoyAndDanielle’s house. He asked me no fewer than 3 times to bring candied bacon, so I obligingly made up a batch.

Scott and I arrived to discover a formally set table with a blue Star-of-David tablecloth and Danielle’s distinguished-looking parents milling about. Oh yeah, Friday night. Shabbat dinner, the weekly ritual of the Jewish people, who, as you may know, traditionally shun the flesh of the swine. So not only did the black chick and her giant goyfriend crash the party, but we brought an entire pig. I sank into the couch, dying a thousand deaths, and our friend Danny whispered “You brought bacon to Shabbat dinner?” I gripped his arm in agony and hissed “Reuben set me up!”

Reuben, at this point, was off in the kitchen with no fewer than four strips of candied bacon sticking out of his mouth, like Judas, or a star-nosed mole.

Artist's interpretation of the dude who totally sold me out.

Artist’s interpretation of the dude who totally sold me out.

Danielle pulled out a Ziploc bag of yarmulkes and all the men put them on, except Gentile Scott, who, they decided, already had his own tenuous covenent with G-d on his head in the form of an army cap.

Artist's interpretation of everyone else.

Artist\’s interpretation of everyone else.

Danielle’s elegant mother draped a pretty cloth with Hebrew embroidery over the bread, then she and Danielle covered their eyes and sang the song to bless the Shabbat candles, Roy blessed the challah, and I slunk away, totally mortified, to hide from the grownups by skrunching up behind Danny, where I moaned softly in remorseful torment. In a strange way, I felt like I finally understood Jewish guilt. (amirite?)

As everyone served themselves Danielle’s father slowly approached me, his silver hair glinting around a regal satin yarmulke. I ducked my head in shame as he ominously intoned, “Are you the one who brought that bacon?” I cringed and nodded, sheepishly raising my eyes to meet his. He popped the last bite of something into his mouth, licked his fingers with a loud smack, and chirped, “It’s delightful, may we have the recipe?”

Hurray!

Hurray!

Cooking an entire package of bacon in home-made brown sugar caramel is the perfect way to make your apartment smell like a heart attack and make all your friends like you. And it’s surprisingly easy! It’s good as a treat, or you could chop it and throw it on a salad or something, which might mitigate, you know, the fact that you’re eating 80% pork fat and you also coated it in sugar.

I adapted the following recipe from David Lebovitz’ recipe for Candied Bacon Ice Cream, which sounds like the best idea I’ve ever heard and I thank gord I don’t have an ice cream maker, or I would probably make it hourly. (waddle waddle)

Ingredients:
Bacon
Brown Sugar
(optional: Maple Syrup)

That's homemade Port Elgin maple syrup in the Maker's Mark bottle, thanks to Uncle Larry, who is not actually my uncle, but anyone who gives me a whiskey bottle full of homemade syrup gets called Uncle by me.

That\’s homemade Port Elgin maple syrup in the Maker\’s Mark bottle, thanks to Uncle Larry, who is not actually my uncle, but anyone who gives me a whiskey bottle full of homemade syrup gets called Uncle by me.

Tools:
Cookie sheets or glass lasagna pans
Cookie cooling racks
Tongs
Tinfoil
Kitchen timer is useful, too.

Procedure:

1. Preheat oven to 400″ (use bottom element). Turn on the exhaust fan and close the door to your closet, or you’ll smell like a pioneer for days.

2. Loosely tinfoil the cookie sheets. Make sure the tinfoil is a bit too big for the pans and let it fold upwards at the edges like a bowl. This is to catch the grease. Because there will be grease.

3. Open the bacon. Usually there’s one end of each strip that’s just a chunk of fat. You can cut that end off & toss it out back for the raccoons.

Like tourists in Florida.

Like tourists in Florida.

4. Lay the bacon out, arranging the strips so they’re not overlapping (they can be touching & cramped, though). You can put it on the wire racks, as pictured. Or, if you’re short on wire racks, just lay all the bacon directly on the tinfoil sheets- it makes them shrink better so a whole package of half-cooked strips will fit on a single large wire rack in the next step.

5. Stick ‘em in the oven & bake for 10 minutes. They will brown on the bottom, & shrink.

6. Flip the bacon so the browned side faces up. Reposition it so it all fits on the wire rack/tinfoil trays. At this point you may be able to fit the whole pack of bacon on one cookie sheet/rack.

Thanks, Uncle Larry.

Thanks, Uncle Larry.

7. Dump about a cupful of brown sugar into a bowl. Use your fingers to liberally sprinkle a line of sugar down the centre of each strip. Don’t worry if some falls off, but also don’t make too much mess on the cookie tray, because wayward piles of sugar will burn.

OR:

If you’re using maple syrup, mix 1 cup of sugar + 1/2 cup of syrup into a thick paste (aim for the consistency of toothpaste). Use a teaspoon (or pipe it out of a little bag with a snipped corner) to drizzle it down the centre of each slice.

Sugared bacon bakin', sugar.

Sugared bacon bakin\’, sugar.

Sugar drippings beginning to burn = stank-ass kitchen.

Sugar drippings beginning to burn = stank-ass kitchen.

8. Bake for another 10 minutes or so. This isn’t an exact science so trust your nose. You don’t want burning.

9. Flip the strips and sugar the other side. If the caramel in the bottom of the pans is burning, swap out that tinfoil & replace it with a fresh sheet. Burnt sugar smells like the apocalypse, and will fill your apartment with creepy bluish smoke.

This photo has a pavlovian effect on me.

This photo has a pavlovian effect on me.

10. Bake more. Keep an eye on it. One more flip, perhaps, and maybe a little more sugar (hint: yes). You can switch elements to the broiler if you think it needs it. If you do, put it on the lowest rack, set a timer for 1-2 minutes at a time and keep peeking- sugar burns very fast.

11. When the bacon is the consistency of fruit leather- flexible but not droopy- and the top is kind of sugary & bubbly looking, take it out. Note that it will harden up somewhat as the sugar cools, so it tastes better if the bacon itself is not too hard to begin with. You can sprinkle a little more dry sugar on the top at this point- it’ll soak in.

Looking at this photo I hear the theme from 2001: Space Odyssey in my tiny, pig-addled head.

Looking at this photo I hear the theme from 2001: Space Odyssey in my tiny, pig-addled head.

12. Let it cool, cut the strips into pieces with scissors, and impress the crap out of your friends with this porcine delight.

13 (disgusting/delicious). The tinfoil under the bacon will be covered in hot caramel. Leave it to cool on your counter- don’t throw it out. Otherwise, in a few hours you’re gonna wander home from that dinner party, tipsy and peckish, and you’ll find yourself digging through the kitchen trash to exhume that tinfoil and pick tasty little shards of porky-rendered caramel off it like Sally Struthers. I’m not kidding, those little crackles taste NICE.

NOT THAT I DID THAT.

CASE CLOSED

CASE CLOSED

Moar: “MY ACTING”, an inadvertently funny short play about Acting. Transcribed from reality.


Stadium made of snack food

February 2, 2009

This would be the greatest SuperBowl party snack ever.

snack stadium superbowl party food

58 Twinkies, a pound of Guacamole, a bag each of Nachos, Doritos, Cheetos, and Chex Mix, and other assorted American treats, totalling 24,374 calories and 1,285 grams of fat. All for only $86. Wow. They even made a blimp.

It’s important to lay down some paper towels, so that no food comes in contact with your disgusting table top. (Because if you’re a person who makes this, you definitely have a disgusting table top.)

Sometimes I don’t think I do enough fun stuff. I need to make more fun. By which I mean “bacon”. Via.


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