No, seriously. You are reading Meathenge, not I'm Mad and I Eat. This is a special proxy edition by the real Dr. Biggles, hosted by his pal Cookiecrumb while cyber-tinkerings are completed on his balky website, whose keys and synapses and Internet tubes are no doubt clogged by tasty meat drippings.
"Can you hold please? I need to flip the bacon"
Busy doesn't even remotely come close to describe what I've been up to lately. And when I do have time? I'm so exhausted I sit down for my pre-bed nap. So, Monday I took the day off. I owed some friend a load of meat and I wanted to hit the road, do some travelin'.
It was finally time for me to visit Bud's Custom Meats in Penngrove California. But that was Monday Biggles, how come it's Friday morning and you still haven't tried the bacon? No time, that's why. I thought I just got done telling you that. You did, but then how come this entry? Well, because I had a great idea. What's that Biggles? Since I spend all day at work, why not just fry up the bacon here in my office.
Grand idea Biggles! Bacon in the office, why didn't I think of that? You did silly.
About 9:30 this morning I drove back home (six minute drive) and grabbed Bud's bacon and headed back to work. The kids asked why I was back home so quickly, "What'd you forget, Pops?" "My Bacon!" I said. They knodded and didn't say a thing. They're used to me, I suppose. It's normal for their father to dash in to the house and return with a pound of bacon.
See, years ago I did a fair amount of cooking in my office. Used to prepare breakfast for everyone and lunch sometimes. Well, years have passed and most of my equipment here has found other uses and homes. Such as the hot plate, it's now used for candle making. Just like that, see?
It didn't take long to get my work surface cleaned up and the electric skillet placed and hot. I needed something to turn the bacon with. I dug around in my utensil drawer and found a fork. That doesn't sound like me, I'm never without my tongs. Ah, there they were, tucked way in the back. Yay! Tongs!
From the outside the bacon had a rough, thick cut and it looks pretty. Upon opening I take a deep, deep sniff. Uh, smells like ham. Which isn't necessarily a bad thing. But there's no smoky goodness, none. Zip, nada. As you can see the piece size varies greatly, that's kinda nice. This way each piece of bacon throughout your meal has a different texture, size and varies with yummy fat content.
Man I hate this electric skillet. The bottom is so thin the food only browns well over the element and not over the entire surface. Dumb thing. But it got the job done and the bacon was ready in no time. I'm a huge fan of paper towels on the bottom and top, press well to soak up the greasy fatness. This way the crispy parts stay crispy and the chewy parts are chewy. MmMmM, chewy parts. Ghod I'm killing me.
I placed all the baconny pieces on a towelled plate and walked throughout the building handing out bacon to everyone I saw. It wasn't expected and the surprised and pleasant noises people made made it all worth while. How did it taste? So far everyone gave 2 thumbs up and thought it was most excellent. They liked the texture and the taste. While I agreed, I wasn't that impressed. There was negligible smoky goodness and that just blows my trip. Even at approximately $3.50 a pound for the sliced bacon, I'm not convinced I'd buy it again. While my other choices are 3 times the price, the smoky love is that important to me. Why? Because you can only eat so much bacon while you're alive. So you might as well make it superb bacon.
BUD'S CUSTOM MEATS
7750 Petaluma Hill Rd.
Note: Bud's is still most certainly worth a trip, even if I wasn't impressed with their bacon. Penngrove is about the size of a pork butt and just as pretty. Please visit Chilebrown's Meat Adventure to Bud's Custom Meats a while back.