THE BACONATOR

If the title of this blog hasn’t made it abundantly clear, I adore shoes. I actually detest shopping for clothes and hate stores and malls; I get all panic attack-y and claustrophobic, and am convinced there is not sufficient oxygen. But, get me past the perfume spritzers and racks of clothing into the shoe department and it is as if I’ve entered a realm of cherubs and melodious harps.

Grocery shopping releases about the same amount of endorphins and my trips to market are rarely perfunctory outings. I like to slowly zigzag my through, stopping to stare glassy-eyed at the products. Oftentimes I do this purely as research - if I’m reading a recipe I can immediately recall where a particular ingredient is available for purchase, down to it’s location on a shelf.

I like to plan menus and make lists ahead of time so I can purchase all elemental foodstuffs at one go – and also to reduce the risk of becoming distracted and returning home with items I did not in effect, need. Sometimes, though, I venture out there and wander, glassy-eyed and almost dazed, puzzling over what the heck to make for dinner.

It was in this uncertain state of mind that I hooked a basket on my arm at Whole Foods on Saturday. I was there for unsweetened vanilla soy milk, but also to forage for Sunday brunch. There were fiddlehead ferns, bright green and tightly curled like storybook worms (tempura?), tiny artichokes (fried? Steamed and sauced?), leeks (vichyssoise?), but nothing was calling out to me as much as…lettuce. Yes, lettuce, which I consider much less poetic than many of its produce section siblings, was what was beckoning because I remembered that the “L” in BLT stands for LETTUCE. My mind cleared, the torpor vanished, and thoughts raced. I was going to make no ordinary BLT with flimsy bread, bland tomatoes, and waifish bacon strips. I was going to make a sandwich that would require a side of five napkins.

I gathered ripe plum tomatoes, a soft-to-the-touch avocado, a handful of salad greens, and a few slabs of thick-cut bacon from the butcher’s case and ran home to triumphantly announce that tomorrow was going to be no ordinary day.

Sunday morning I set to: I roasted my tomatoes for an hour, doused in olive oil and balsamic vinegar, well-seasoned with kosher salt, fresh-ground pepper, and tossed with a few cloves of smashed garlic. They emerged soft and wrinkled, fragrant and sweet.
The bacon, to avoid a mess in my Lilliputian kitchen, was also baked in the oven, the rendered fat brushed on pain de mie slices.

While the baking was going on, I whipped together some mayonnaise and was ready to assemble: a generous schmear of mayo, avocado slices, bacon, roasted tomatoes, and lettuce. And there it was, a BLT to the –nth power – the baconator.

THE BACONATOR
For 2

MAYONNAISE
1 egg yolk
2 tsps. Dijon mustard
salt + pepper to taste
lemon juice to taste
150 mL (about 2/3 C.) vegetable oil

-Whisk together egg yolk, mustard, and a pinch each salt and pepper.
-In a very slow, steady stream, pour in oil while whisking quickly and vigorously, until all oil in incorporated.
-Season with salt, pepper, and lemon juice to taste.





BACON
5 – 6 slices thick-cut bacon (about ½ lb.)

-Preheat oven to 375˚F.
-Cover a rimmed baking sheet (rims will keep the rendered fat from leaking out) with parchment paper (no wax paper, unless you want to cause a fire) and lay out bacon slices in a single layer.
-Cover with a second sheet of parchment and weigh down with another cookie sheet, Pyrex, or other oven-proof cookware.
-Cook 30 – 45 minutes until bacon fat is rendered and bacon is cooked.
-Set bacon slices on a paper towel-lined dish and pour fat into a bowl. Reserve the baking sheet and first sheet of parchment.


TOMATOES
6 ripe plum tomatoes
¼ C. olive oil
3 TBSP. balsamic vinegar
salt + pepper
4 garlic cloves, peeled and smashed into large chunks

-Preheat oven to 375˚F.
-Core tomatoes and cut in half lengthwise.
-In a medium bowl, toss tomatoes with salt, pepper, olive oil, vinegar, and garlic.
-Spread tomatoes, cut-side up, on a parchment paper-lined rimmed baking sheet or Pyrex and stud with garlic.
-Roast 60 – 75 minutes, till tomatoes are soft to the touch.


ASSEMBLY
4 slices good bread, white or whole wheat
1 ripe avocado
large handful of salad greens
salt and pepper

-Arrange bread slices on reserved bacon baking sheet and brush each with reserved fat. If not sufficient, spread slices with softened butter.
-Toast in a 350˚F until golden.
-Thinly slice avocado and squirt with lemon juice to prevent browning. Season with salt and pepper.
-Wash and spin-dry greens and sprinkle with salt.
-Spread a generous amount of mayo on two of toast slice and top each with avocado slices, bacon, roasted tomatoes, and lettuce. Cover with remaining toast, press down gently, and cut in half before serving.

NOW THAT'S A SANDWICH, DUMAS

Count-worthy sandwich.

My first restaurant meal as a resident of Massachusetts took place at a popular spot in Cambridge. It was, regrettably, only so-so. Had it not been for the fantastic people we brunched with, the experience would have rated slightly lower.

The menu had the usual eggs Benedict, steak and eggs, French toast, etc. I went for the Monte Cristo and this is where the cucumber begins to turn into a pickle. When the waiter took my order, I said, “Just to be clear, this sandwich is egg-battered and fried like French toast, yeah?” And he said, “No, it’s grilled ham and cheese, topped with a fried egg.” To which I replied, “Well then, that’s more of a croque madame than a Monte Cristo, isn’t it?” Waiter: “No, it’s a Monte Cristo.” I’d already decided on having the sandwich, despite its inaccurate handle, but the Hermione Granger in me really wanted to let this man know that Monte Cristos and croque madames are like the proverbial apples and oranges: “Sorry, but those are two totally different sandwiches.” Mercifully, the waiter didn't kick me out of the restaurant, and just shrugged his shoulders and continued taking orders.

Right then and there I decided I needed to set the record straight in my own kitchen and create a semantically and anatomically correct Monte Cristo. I did some online research and was surprised at the scanty results that turned up, and even more surprised that no one could agree on the true origins of the that sandwich. I had secretly hoped that Alexander Dumas had snacked on them while writing his novels and liked them so much that he’d named one of his most beloved characters after them…

The fact is there are a variety of versions out there, the majority calling for turkey and Swiss, others ham or chicken and Swiss, and one recipe, from Bennigan’s Grill and Tavern incorporated both turkey and ham, as well as Swiss and American cheeses. The one common thread among these was that the sandwiches were egg-battered and fried, dusted with confectioner’s sugar, and served alongside fruit or fruit compote. I consulted Joy of Cooking as well but found that they go batter-free, which with all due respect, is unacceptable. Given the range of interpretations, I decided I had free rein to assemble a Monte Cristo of my own design, and I was deeply satisfied with it.

THE BIG MC
Serves 2

4 slices firm bread (Pullman, pain de mie, or challah – please, no Wonder et al, unless you want a soggy mess for brunch)
4 oz. ham
4 slices Swiss cheese
butter
vegetable oil
2 large eggs
1/3 C. milk
pinch salt

Confectioner’s sugar for dusting
Maple syrup

-Butter one side of each bread slice.

-In a medium mixing bowl, whisk eggs + milk + pinch salt.

-Heat a large sauté pan on medium-high and add vegetable oil (you’ll have to eyeball this – there should be enough to lightly fry the bread).

-Dip the buttered side of two bread slices in the egg mixture and allow to soak, about 15 seconds. Place the battered side in the oil and immediately top one slice with cheese and ham. Make sure the heat is not too high: the bread should brown slowly to allow the cheese to melt; there is nothing worse than a hot sandwich with a cold filling. Cover the ham and cheese with the second slice, and flip to continue browning.

-Cut sandwich in half, sift powdered sugar over it, and serve with warm maple syrup.


Cheese first, ham second!