Preoccupation Eventually Gets Boring

Amidst the sea of CU Rugby, Facebook addiction, fractured skulls, beginning grad school and generally being away from the interwebs, I have written nothing substantive. Even the personal statement I wrote for my grad school application was pointless (However, thanks Annika!). I feel like I am under a sea of magazines and books compounded by a fractured skull, helacious humidity, and a depressing economy and environmental outlook...I find myself with tons to write about but no energy to do it. Therefore, I am going to make a decent stab at clearing through some photos and topics promised to myself and others.

Until that takes off, here is a photo of my friend Sarah's posh free range chickens as that is what I owe young Poon, who has asked many times for nutrition information on chicken. Sorry, kiddo.


~beth

The Mythical Legend Known As “Bacon Dinner”

“Bacon Dinner” grew out of a stifling August night in a kitchenette on the Lower East Side. It began in the market, while searching for foods palatable to people who loathed vegetables and vegetablekind to make a full dinner. The scarcity of items led to the realization the bacon should probably just be included in every dish, therefore rendering the vegetables bacon-like in their greatness and acceptable to all who would dine on them. Therefore, two 1 pound packages of thick-cut Boar’s Head Brand cured bacon were placed lovingly in the basket with some other ingredients, all of which would become what we now know as “Bacon Dinner.”

The main course would be a variation on this meal called “Monterrey Chicken” served at the horrid and now defunct chain restaurant where I waitressed in college. Only with this preparation, the bacon would not be there to accessorize the bird, it would take over the plate to make it an experience. The bacon is cooked first, not to a crisp, but to a medium, then set aside. Hands will be slapped if they try to steal any of the bacon goodness, it is understood. The chicken is then browned in the nice bacon juices and kept on warm in wait for the other bits and bobs to be finished.

All the while sweet potatoes are being sliced to millimeter thinness to be tossed on medium heat with sliced Vidalia onions, a chunk of butter, and about a 1/3 pound of glorious bacon to cook and meld together. The bacon juices from the chicken are then added. Also, green beans are being steamed with some slices of chopped up bacon for flavor, or rather to make them taste less like beans and more like bacon.

Lastly, a tossed salad is put together made of crispy Romaine hearts, tomato wedges, green onions, crisped bacon bits, and a snappy French dressing ("Briana's"). The chicken is laid on plates and topped with bacon strips, sprinkled with cheddar cheese, chopped tomatoes, chopped cilantro, and green onions. There is spicy barbecue sauce and Tapatio on the side for dipping.

The hot August air of the small apartment would not be noticeable to those sitting down to the bacon feast. Bacon had been infused into all four parts of the meal, beginning the legend which would only be celebrated in the most important of settings. The apartment would smell for days like this feast of pork and all who are lucky enough to consume it remain giddy for days with joy that only bacon brings.

That is just a small look into the legend that is bacon dinner. It has only been replicated once since and no, there is not a recipe to be given out.

*Dedicated to my one and only "Bacon Dinner" sous chef, my S.F. "wife" Emy... ~beth