The Green Goddess “Notorious” Bacon Sundae: Pecan praline ice cream with a creamy bacon caramel sauce carrying a bit of both Pink Himalayan & Black Lava Salts, & micro-planed Nueske’s Applewood Bacon.
Fievel likes it, too.
A recipe emporium and food blog for people who love their meat smokey, their hot sauce extra tangy, and their cheese abundant.
2. This Halloween is going to be the best yet. I'm going as Poison Ivy from the Batman comic books/movies/animated series. Mr. Luz is going as Lady Gaga at the MTV Video Music Awards, and I'm making a double batch of BBQ pulled pork. All is right with the world.
Sticky Rice on H Street SE in D.C. will serve you your very own pitcher of bloody marys if you're lucky enough to catch their brunch menu.
During law school, Mr. Jacoby loaded me up with baked goods that he made from fresh and exotic ingredients. I still dream about a loaf of blueberry bread that he brough me--it probably had at least 3 sticks of butter in it, it was so rich! MMmsnorglemmmm. Mr. Jacoby is in Texas now, a mere 1000-something miles from D.C. Even so, he managed to deliver some tasty baked goods recently in the form of Zingerman's Pepper Bacon Farmhouse bread! Zingerman's has a Deli and Bakehouse in Ann Arbor, MI and its full-service bar restaurant, The Roadhouse, has been recognized by the James Beard Foundation. They do a booming "mail order" business, which is how I came to experience the glory that is Zingerman's thanks to Mr. Jacoby. (On my Christmas list, their "Guide to Better Bacon"..it has a bacon fat mayonnaise recipe!) And in my opinion, they make the best bread in the country. What's so special about it?The crust is rich and crackling, the inside is dense and chewy. And the black pepper applewood smoked bacon flavor? Aacckkk((09danl;iwer*!!!!! I maybe had it for dinner one night covered in goat cheese. It was so smoky, and salty, and spicy. I mean, its meat bread. How can you go wrong? (FYI, we also had another loaf jam-packed with huge raisins and walnuts, but I ate it before I could take any pictures.) And so, Mr. Jacoby, I'd like to take this opportunity to thank you, for being a wonderful friend and my culinary co-counsel, and especially for sending me meat bread. You are my favorite.
Bon appetite magazine's September 2008 feature, The Best Italian Food in America, welcomes readers to the "Italian-American renaissance" by highlighting recipes from restaurants across the U.S. that the editors would include on their Italian-American "fantasy menu."
I also tried Acero's Egg Raviolo--a large, thin ravioli filled with herbs, spinach, and soft cheeses, and topped with a farm fresh egg yolk. The pure opaque richness of the soft-boiled egg yolk essentially served as a sauce for the light, sweet pasta and delicately herbed cheeses. If Acero's Egg Raviolo was my last meal on earth (hopefully paired with a dry aged steak and a SuperTuscan of Glenn Bardgett's choosing), I could certainly die happy.
Next came what Chef Gnau jokingly described as meat doughnuts (Wooohoooo!) The simple presentation of thinly shaved prosciutto, deep fried bread beignets, a ripe and golden olive oil, and biting red lava salt was seriously heavenly and appealed to all of the senses at once.
The parade of riches at Acero continued when my secondi course arrived--seared sea scallops with heirloom beans and oyster mushrooms. Acero may take the prize for the perfectly cooked scallop (though I'll take offers for a challenger)--the outside was so crispy, and evenly caramelized while the inside was perfectly succulent and not overcooked. The heirloom beans and mushrooms added grassy, earthy flavors wholly distinct from, but also complementary to, the scallops. Like all of Jim Fiala's restaurants, Acero is unassuming and friendly despite its superstar status and the utterly confident talent and innovation that characterizes its kitchen. As if I were in an old friend's kitchen after a long and successful dinner party, I finished my meal at Acero with a glass of port, their simple dessert of vanilla gelato covered with a shot of espresso, and happy, drowsy conversation that drifted off as we each got lost in our thoughts, remembering our favorite parts of our meal. And no, Chef Gnau didn't send out his personal phone number with my tawny port, but there's always next time.
The most important question I asked myself this month went something like this: What does one do with 729 layers of butter wrapped in crispy puff pastry? My answer went something like this: Serve it with Bacon. Because sometimes the best answers are also the most obvious.
Roasted Duck & Smoky Mushroom Vols-au-Vent:
Remove the gizzards, liver, ect. from the duck and rinse inside and out. Pat dry and season the inside of the duck with salt and pepper. Smash the garlic cloves and add them and the rosemary sprigs to the inside of the duck. Place 1/2 of an onion in the opening to "block" it and keep the seasonings in. Tie the duck's legs and wings if necessary.
I'm taking a break from my break to give you some bacony goodness that was too tantalizing to pass up. [Alliteration, yum.]
September 5 was International Bacon Day, and because I'm slow on the uptake, I deem September 5-12 International Bacon Week. In reality, all good things take at least a week to celebrate (you should be around for my birthday) so it's not too much of a stretch. Also, next year I demand a King and Queen of International Bacon Week. I want a pageant, and fanfare, and bacon-adorned regalia. I don't even have to be Queen, but I do have to be a member of the Court so I can get a tiara.***
The International Bacon Day blog, which explains that IBD has been celebrated in at least 6 countries and embraces Vegetarians and Non-pork eaters by also recognizing the glory of non-pork bacon substitutes, will have a summary of all the 2009 festivities soon. That means we get to start planning for next year.
****The AntiCraft ladies remind those who wish to make their Pork Princess tiara: "You are going to be working with an enzyme that bonds protein. You are made of protein. Unless you want to glue your lungs together or glue your eyelids to your eyeballs, you absolutely must follow these safety rules."
Aloha from sunny Washington D.C.! That's me, on the right. Aren't I handsome? Of course there's no way that could be me, mainly because if I'm going to the trouble of matching a hat to my outfit, it would be far more fantastic than than the plain thing this guy is wearing.This menu should serve 8-10 for dinner, and you can easily convert everything into appetizers. (get some Hawaiian buns and make smoked pork & pineapple salsa sandwiches, cut the ribs into small portions, and spoon the potato salad onto a lettuce wrapper pupu platter-styles.)
Char Sui Ribs: (for 6 lbs. of ribs)
This recipe was relatively easy, because the Asian-inspired ingredients added a richness to the ribs even though I didn't brown them before braising. They were sweet and mellow, and so tender that they weren't really ribs so much as piles of pork with some random bones sitting around. (Oops!) The glaze adds flavor without mess, so don't skip that part.
I think it's typical for Hawaiians to bake rather than braise these puppies, but I'm not experienced with that technique. Instead, I went with a tried and true approach and was rewarded with luscious pork ribs and a lovely soy-roasted garlic-sesame oil perfume throughout the house as the guests arrived.
2 Slabs of Baby Back Ribs (6 lbs.)
1/2 Cup Light Brown Sugar
2 Tbs. Vanilla Extract
1 Cup Hoisin Sauce
4 Tbs. Sesame Oil
4 Tbs. sliced Garlic
4 Tbs. sliced Ginger
4 Tbs. Soy Sauce (I used 2 Tbs. each of regular and low-sodium)
Trim excess fat from the ribs, and remove the tendon from the back of the ribs if you prefer. Place the ribs in a large baking dish with the meaty side facing down.
Mix the rest of the ingredients in a large bowl and pour over the ribs in the roasting pan. Add enough water to the pan so that the ribs are covered ½ way. Cover tightly with foil and bake at 350 degrees for 2.5 hours.
After 2.5 hours, check on the ribs. If they are tender, remove the ribs to a large dish and pour 4 cups of the braising liquid into a sauce pan.
Skim the fat off of the braising liquid and boil until caramelized and reduced to 2 cups. Brush the glaze over the ribs, and if desired, bake at 450 degrees for 5 minutes, or until the glaze has set on the ribs. Cut into the desired size, and serve.
Smoked Island Pork Tenderloin:
Maybe I don't have room in my "yard" to bury an entire pig with some coals and ti leaves, but I do know how to marinade and smoke stuff. Hence the inspiration for this smoked pork recipe. The pork was succulent from its milky marinade, and our guests commented that the coconut flavor was subtle, and yummy.
3 lb. Pork Tenderloin
1 can Coconut Milk (approx. 2 cups)
3 Tbs. Soy Sauce
1 Tbs. Lime Juice
1 cup Pineapple Juice
2 Tbs. chopped Garlic
3 Tbs. chopped Ginger
2 Tbs. Asian 5-Spice
Salt and Pepper
Trim the excess fat and tendon off of the pork tenderloin. Add the remaining ingredients to a blender and blend until the garlic and ginger are minced. Place the tenderloin in a non-metal bowl, and pour the marinade over the top. Cover and refrigerate for 8 hours. If the marinade does not cover the pork, turn it halfway through.
Prepare the grill for smoking. Remove the pork from the marinade, and season liberally with 5-spice, salt, and pepper. Place the pork on the center of the grill, over indirect heat and the drip pan, and smoke for 40 minutes. You can turn and baste with any reserved marinade after 30 minutes, but PLEEZE keep the grill closed otherwise. The pork should be medium after 40 minutes, but smoke for an additional 20 if you want it to be well done.
Remove the pork from the grill, let it rest for 10 minutes, and serve with pineapple salsa (see below).
Kimchi Potato Salad:
This is a recipe for an easy, crowd-pleasing side dish with some interesting and unique element and a light, smoky taste. Hawaiians typically serve poi (paste from taro roots) and kimchi (vinegary, pickled cabbage)at luaus, and I struggled with how to make these elements fit with the BBQ theme.
In the end, I added wilted cabbage and vinegar to an Asian-inspired potato salad, and would have added boiled, cubed taro root if it was available. If you do use taro, be careful and do some research. There are toxins in the skin and the flesh, so take extra precautions when skinning and cooking this starchy, sweet root vegetable.
6 slices of Smoked Bacon
1 ½ Cup sliced Purple Cabbage
5 lbs. of Yukon Gold Potatoes, skinned, boiled, and cubed
2 Cups Mayonnaise
2 Tbs. Soy Sauce
1 Tbs. Sesame Oil
1 Tbs. Dijon Mustard
1 Tbs. Rice Wine Vinegar
1 Cup chopped Green Onion
½ Cup chopped Cilantro
4 dashes Hot Sauce
Salt & Pepper to taste
Cook the bacon in a frying pan over medium heat until crispy and coarse chop when cooled. Wilt the cabbage in the bacon fat and drain on paper towels.
Place the cooked potatoes in a large bowl. Add the bacon and cabbage while still warm, if possible. Mix the remaining ingredients in a small bowl, and pour over the potato mixture. Toss, chill, and serve.
Pineapple Salsa:
Fresh pineapple is now my favorite thing ever. That should say it all.
2 Cups fresh Pineapple, chopped (reserve juices)
½ Cup chopped Cilantro
1 Jalapeno, finely chopped
1 Cup chopped Sweet Onion
1 Red Bell Pepper, finely chopped
4 Tbs. chopped Basil
2 Tbs. chopped mint
4 Tbs. Lime Juice
4 dashes Hot Sauce
Salt & Pepper to taste
Place the pineapple and any juices released from chopping in a non-metal bowl. Add the remaining ingredients, and stir. Let the salsa sit in the fridge for 1 hour to let the flavors blend. Serve well-chilled with taro chips and/or on the smoked pork tenderloin.
NOTE: Greetings from sunny New Orleans! To celebrate its May 24, 24, 24 event, Foodbuzz.com sent Mr. Luz and I down here to enjoy the riches of Chef Chris DeBarr's brand new NOLA restaurant, the Green Goddess. This write up highlights the dinner menu, but the Green Goddess also serves amazing lunch and brunch menus, which are overseen by the highly-regarded Chef/Co-Owner Paul Artigues. The Green Goddess is in Exchange Alley, between Royal and Chartres and on the Canal St. side of the LA Supreme Courthouse. Please stop by, we promise you'll love it.
We peek into the intimate, bronze-gilded dining area, and say hi to Chef DeBarr. Then, like any good and unobtrusive dinner guest, I start taking pictures of things. Scott greets us, and takes our drink order. At his previous restaurant, Chef DeBarr preferred to dispatch with the waitstaff and serve the food himself, which means you always have an expert describing your dishes and answering your questions. Keeping with that theme, Chef DeBarr staffs the Green Goddess with cooks and chefs that are as comfortable serving tables in the the front of the house as they are trained to create the dishes in the back of the house. Scott served us at our table, but also helped prep and cook our dishes. Needless to say, the enthusiasm and pride among the front of the house staff was palpable, and we loved discussing the dishes with their creators as we were experiencing them.
The second course is a Pacific fiddlehead fern, fennel and absinthe bisque. Chef DeBarr roasts the nutty fiddlehead ferns with exotic Bengali seasonings, before cooking them a second time in the bisque. The aromatic ingredients nestle in the fiddleheads in a perfectly engineered dish.
Love. That bohemian theme is present in every element of Chef DeBarr's third course--the roasted golden beet carpaccio “ravioli” stuffed with truffled chèvre, finished with pomegranate molasses, Sardinian Saba, and avocado oil. This dish is all consuming, and almost bittersweet. Chef DeBarr roasts the sweet golden beets and slices them thin, with the tangy goat cheese between two slices. The pomegranate molasses is tart, and absolutely takes control of the roof of your mouth while the other elements dance on the front and sides of your tongue. The pink Himalayan salt that finishes the dish keeps it savory, and gives the subtle beets the kick they need to stand up to the more powerful elements.
The beet "ravioli" is paired with Chef DeBarr's Huckleberry Snowball, a "juicy cocktail" made of crushed ice sinking in Tazo Brambleberry Tea, Hansen’s Dragonfruit Sparkler, and an earthy huckleberry granita. The dark fruit flavors sink deeper into the shaved ice as you sip, and immediately, you are in love.
As we finish our Snowball, a brass band leads a second line of dancing, stomping folks past Exchange Alley and we pause to take in the joy that is strolling past us to the music of brass and drum.
Our fourth course could represent the Spirituality that strums beneath the NOLA way of life. Chef DeBarr's dish of lightly roasted asparagus, morels, petite green peas and shallot “Jam” with a juicy red wine reduction and fluffy red quinoa was the crescendo of the evening. The sauces sunk into the fluffy, earthy morels, and the caramelized shallots offered an intense sweetness to the bright spring flavors and the deep acidity of the red wine reduction. Mr. Luz tasted the Catholic incense of his alter boy days in the floral quinoa, and frankly, we were both emotional as we enjoyed the thoughtful purity of the dish in the peaceful New Orleans evening.
Music is the final urban bohemian element present in Chef DeBarr's Green Goddess tasting menu. His lychee ginger mint "cocktail" with lime absolutely sings. Mr. Luz described the ginger in this cocktail as analogous to hops in a good beer--it was aromatic, and exciting. The mint and lychee added subtle sweet and tangy flavors, and the candy mint danced across your tongue and left your mouth cool and fresh. Like the second line that graced our tasting menu earlier in the night, this "cocktail" alternately bounces and drifts across your palate, and is not to be missed.
Chef DeBarr finished the evening with his Mt. Hood Medicine Man salad, with shaved fennel, candied yuzu peel, hazelnuts and wild foraged spring greens with blood orange vinaigrette and avocado oil. This dish is perfectly lagniappe (meaning "a little something extra" in N'awlins-speak). Every bite is different, and the shaved fennel in particular changes whether you eat it with a bite of some of the bitter greens, the citrus-y yuzu peel, or the sweeter hazelnuts. The greens are foraged by hand on Oregon's Mt. Hood by a man named Running Squirrel. The greens truly taste wild, with a myriad of hidden flavors highlighted by Chef DeBarr's preparation, and they are fleeting in that they will only be harvested for a short time. In sum, Chef DeBarr's salad is a fresh, fleeting masterpiece in an otherwise stale culinary world where famous chefs haven't changed their menu since 2000 (sorry, Emeril).
The tasting menu ended with a toasted hazelnut tuile and blood orange sorbet with pine bud syrup, and a Louisiana strawberry crème brulee topped with caramelized balsamic syrup. The desserts progressed from citrus-y and bright to creamy and deep. (Maybe we also tasted Chef DeBarr's bread pudding with chocolate hazelnut--decadent!--and his Saturn Calling dessert made with sticky black rice pudding, coconut milk, mango and amaretto with tapioca pearls, which I highly recommend!)
Other highlights from Chef DeBarr's dinner menu at the Green Goddess:
South Indian Savory Ivory Lentil Pancake (aka: utthappam) with petite green peas,
mustard seeds, kalonji, and spiced tomatoes with tamarind chutney & fiery dal. This dish tastes like an inside out samosa, fluffy and fun, and the tamarind paste puckers your palate in a good way!
Second favorite dish of the night: “Spooky” Blue Corn Crèpes with huitlacoche, (a
rare Aztec corn fungus) mushrooms & brandy ragout, finished with porcini salt and butter.
Holy Lord.
The huitlacoche can best be described as a sort of "noble rot" that gives the corn a meaty flavor and texture. The porcini salt and butter hits you in the face all at once and with every bite, and lends a truffled element to the dish.
Our final entrée was the Bison Bacon Meatloaf with asparagus roasted with serrano ham and twice baked potato and spicy steak sauce. My favorite part of this dish is the twice baked potato. The potatoes are whipped with yogurt instead of sour cream and then baked with manchego cheese. Scott told us that "you can't get the potatoes creamy enough for Chef Debarr-you could whisk butter, cream, and yogurt into them for hours and they're still not creamy enough." Awesome.
To be honest, the bacon is pretty subtle in this recipe. (Drat!) Every once in awhile you get a definitively meaty bite in the crust or the chocolate candy drizzle, but it just adds a smoky richness to the caramel sauce that tastes nothing like your Sunday bacon n' eggs breakfast.
Tap your crust with an empty drinking glass for an even texture. It should be fairly dry...the bacon will render some fat into the crust as it bakes, and anything else will result in the dreaded soggy-crust. Doesn't my thumb look gross in this picture? I'm a hobbit!
Cover and store the extra crust crumbs in the refrigerator.
5. Bake 45 to 55 minutes. The edges will be set, but the center will have alot of jiggle to it and will appear uncooked. Carefully run a knife around the edges to release the cake and avoid cracking. Without removing the cake, close the oven door and turn it off; let the cake rest for one hour. Remove it, cover, and refrigerate overnight.
Make Bacon Caramel Sauce:
Shake the pan rather than stirring after all the sugar has melted, and bring to a boil. Let boil until amber in color.
Add the bacon grease and butter. Gratuitous bacon fat picture below, just for Liza Jane and PapayaBlue.
Remove from heat and stir in cream. Let the sauce thicken for 20 minutes, then pour over the top of your cheesecake, letting some pool in the middle.

This recipe started out as an experiment--a quest, if you will--to make an interesting and unique pasta sauce for a recipe contest. My thought process went something like this: "Bacon is smoked meat, and bacon is yummy. Why not smoke vegetables? Then they'll taste like BACON!"
Soak two handfuls of the hickory chips in water for at least 30 minutes. Prepare a charcoal grill so that the hot coals are spread on 2 sides of the grill, with an aluminum pan filled with water in the middle and separating the coals. Place the soaked hickory chips over the hot coals, and replace the grilling surface. Place the veggies in the center of the grill, and try to avoid putting them over direct heat. (You may have to make smoke the vegetables in batches). Use a metal tray to keep the artichoke hearts from falling through the grate.
Close the lid and smoke the veggies for 30 minutes. Remove the veggies from the grill--they may not be completely cooked, but they'll finish in the sauce.
Make the Sauce
Once the veggies have cooled, chop the pepper and fennel. Cut the portabellas and artichokes into bite-sized pieces.
Chop the bacon, and saute it in a large, heavy-bottomed pot. Once the bacon begins to brown, add the onion and garlic and saute for 5 minutes. Add the fennel, pepper, portabellas, and artichokes and saute until all of the vegetables are soft and the fennel is sweet.
Peel the skin off of the smoked tomatoes, and core and seed them. (I do this by holding the whole tomato over the pot and using my fingers to slide the soft, smoked tomato off of its core. Ewwww.) Add the tomatoes to the pot, and stir until all of the browned bits come off the bottom of the pan.
Stir in the white wine, balsamic, tomato paste, and water. Add salt and pepper to taste. Bring to a vigorous simmer, reduce heat, and simmer for 1 1/2 hours. Add the tarragon, and simmer for 10 more minutes. Taste the sauce--if it is too smoky for you, add the sugar and simmer for 10 more minutes. Right before serving, crumble or shave pieces of the ricotta salata cheese into the sauce, and enjoy!