Bacon Jam Shortbread

A trip to Seattle always stirs up memories of living, working, and eating there. Mmmmm. Eating there...

Sometimes, at about 11:25 on a Thursday, I'd get an email from Adam containing just a single, magical word. Skillet. Not a question, not a command, an affirmation. At the sight of that word my stomach would begin to growl in anticipation, scarcely able to wait the agonizing half hour until I could bolt out of the office, speed down the hill to Fremont, and join Adam and a crowd of similarly jonesing Seattleites in the line for Skillet Street Food. Skillet hasn't yet parked their gleaming airstream trailer on the streets of Berkeley, and we haven't yet found a local hamburger to rival their mouthwatering combination of grass-fed beef, arugula, cambozola, brioche, and bacon jam. Luckily, we can open up a jar of Bacon Jam anytime we're craving a taste of home.

Bacon Jam is potent stuff. The aroma alone is enough to tempt vegetarians back to the dark side. Packed with Niman Ranch bacon,  onions, and a sweet zing of balsamic vinegar, Bacon Jam is usually the loudest taste on your plate. I wondered how it would do in a more understated role as an ingredient.

My Bacon Jam Shortbread is an elaboration on my basic Savory Shortbread recipe. The essential ingredients are the same: 1/4 cup of grated parmesan, 1 1/2 teaspoons of kosher salt, 1 3/4 cups of flour, and 2 sticks of cubed unsalted butter. I rounded out the recipe with flavors that wouldn't take no nonsense from bossy Bacon Jam.

This shortbread is the condensed version of the ultimate sandwich. A teaspoon each of onion powder, caraway seed, and black pepper with a tablespoon or so of chopped fresh dill replicates the taste of rye bread. Every sandwich needs a slice of cheese, so I used 1/4 cup of finely diced swiss. If you're a mustard fan, why not add a teaspoon of mustard seed? And, of course, you'll need 2 tablespoons of Bacon Jam.

The amount of butter in this recipe is variable due to the oil in the jam, so watch your dough carefully as you're mixing. From there, proceed with my Savory Shortbread directions: roll, chill, chop, bake at 350º for about 15 minutes. Are you wondering why I have no cutely styled final product picture? They didn't last that long.

Adam's Bachelor Thanksgiving, Part One: Potatoes

Thanksgiving has a slightly different meaning for everyone. Whether it be food, drink, family, religion, national pride, or football, Thankgsiving is a true holiday and a time for celebration. I was lucky enough to grow up with a big family, and with my extended family nearby. My memories of this holiday are mostly of them: my sisters taking far too long to primp for church in the morning, my Father maxing out on the religious potential of the holiday (the Philokalia always appears right when I'm about to start on the stuffing), my Mother turning around just in time to catch me sneaking a bite of crispy skin straight off the turkey, "The Princess Bride" entertaining us kids while we waited for dinner at my cousin's house, my Aunt Laura playing board games with us long after dessert was over, and my Grandmother's pies which were (and still are) worth skipping dinner for.

Family is such a dynamic thing. Missing out on time spent with my the people I love is something that I feel acutely. I want to see how my littlest sister is faring in high school. I want to hear all about my brother's escapades as a college freshman (and pretend that I was wilder and crazier in my day). I want to unload my own problems and adventures on my parents and see in their faces that I'm not the first to experience such things. I want to sit quietly with my grandparents, appreciate the stories I have probably heard dozens of times before, and mark the passing of one more precious year with them. I want my older relatives to mark how far I've come from the little boy who always got his nice clothes dirty playing wiffle ball with the cousins. I want to sit across from my girlfriend, nurture the traditions of our own little family, share a bottle of wine, and wait for the day (decades from now) when we can look back and say, "I remember when..."

But these are strange times! I sit here in my Berkeley apartment, a thousand miles from "home," desperate for a way to make Turkey Day special. I have a feeling I'm not the only one who's feeling a bit isolated this holiday season. At this point, I say thank God for the Internet, and thank God for food (both of which I am learning to use to their fullest potential). I am starting to earn a reputation in my family (and StB's as well) for my culinary skills, and I think withholding guidance from my loved ones at this time of year would be immoral and flat-out un-American. So, I have decided to prepare "remote Thanksgiving" and prevent this sumptuous feast over the internets, so that my table can become your table, and hopefully a good time can be had by all (especially if this thing goes viral).

Preparation of a "One Man Thanksgiving" is both challenging and liberating. On the one hand, it's a traditional day and the food should reflect that- and this will certainly be comforting on a lonely holiday. On the other hand, there's really only one person to please (ME). As us Basques say, "that throws a grenado right in the Paella." The solution is a lot like Thanksgiving itself- a little of everything. For you, dear audience, and for myself, I will prepare some traditional dishes, some borrowed recipes, and some things that I'm making up on the spot.

The menu for my solitary feast is as follows:

Twice-Baked Potato with Bacon, Parsley & Parmesan

Honey & Rosemary Glazed Smoked Ham Hock with Honey-Carrot Confit & Caramelized Onions

Bruschetta with Warm Gjetost-Raspberry Spread & Dates Batonette

Plenty of Light San Francisco Ale

Let's start with that Twice-Baked Potato...

In my family, potatoes are so ubiquitous as to become invisible. Every holiday meal features a heaping dish of the fluffy mashed kind. My cousin's family is Irish and StB is half Idahoan, so a lack of potatoes could result in severe withdrawal symptoms. To most people, a potato is a potato. The only question is how long you cook it, and whether or not you leave the skin on. With my twice-baked potato recipe, I'd like to shift the paradigm. In this case the questions are, "how many ingredients can we pack into one spud?" and "how can we make this humble tuber look and taste like its own flavorful garden of Eden?"

To follow along, gather up the following ingredients and press play!

Two or Three Russet Potatoes

1/2 Cup Unsalted Butter

1/2 Cup Cream

1/2 Cup Parsley, Chopped

Crispy Strips of Bacon (as many as you please)

1/4 Cup Grated Parmesan

Salt & Pepper to taste

The Potato Gets Baked

The Potato Gets Baked... Again

Check back tomorrow, and we'll talk Turkey. Errr... rather, Ham & Carrots...