09 December 2009

not your typical dessert.

To me, a dessert without chocolate is like the Beatles without Ringo. It just doesn't come out right.

So when this article popped up on my Twitter feed, I was appalled and perplexed… furious even. What right does bacon have tainting my favorite part of every meal, injecting its obnoxious self into all my dessert favorites?

I couldn’t let the deplorable bacon win. Almost out of spite, I tried this recipe:

Chocolate-Bacon-Peanut Bark

8 strips cooked, chopped bacon

2 cups semisweet chocolate

1 cup unsalted peanuts

Line a large baking sheet with parchment paper.

Add chocolate to a large pan, melt over medium/low heat. Using a spatula, stir continuously, until smooth and creamy.

Stir in the bacon and peanuts. Pour onto the prepared baking sheet and spread to 3/8-inch thickness. Refrigerate for a minimum of 1 hour. The bark should be hard and chilled.

Place bark on a cutting board and cut into pieces — any size or shape you'd like. Serve at about room temperature.

The nerve. How could bacon do such a thing?

Chocolate and peanuts, sure. They’ve been pleasing taste palettes in trail mix and candy bars since who knows when. But could this dependable duo withstand when bacon crashes the party?

I just had to know.

I’ve got to give the recipe points for easiness. With only three ingredients—chocolate, peanuts, bacon—and three steps—melt, mix, spread—it was ready in a snap. For this college student swimming in a sea of assignments and tests, this recipe was a quick and convenient way to test the waters of pig-infested desserts.

I’ll admit, I winced a little bit when dropping handfuls of bacon into the bowl of creamy, rich chocolate and crunchy peanuts. Peanuts and chocolate are such a natural combination, why ruin it? And with something as outlandish as bacon?

Oh, the insanity. Why?

Because salty-sweet just works, that’s why.

At first bite, I sat there for a minute. Huh. You know, it’s not that bad.

As much as I wanted to hate this recipe, as much as I wanted the bacon to fail, it was actually really good.

The bacon in this tasty trifecta adds a different sort of crunch, a different sort of salty that the peanuts just can’t offer. The bacon is crisp, yet chewy. Combined with peanuts and the smooth, melt-in-your-mouth chocolate, the texture of the bacon is a nice contrast and adds a savory, smoky flavor to the sweet mix.

Everyone freaks out when walking by the chocolate-covered bacon kiosk at the fair. And yet, it’s there, year after year. They must be doing something right.

Okay, bacon. I’ve got to give it to you. You bring out some interesting flavors in chocolate and peanuts that are oddly satisfying.

Still, don’t think I’m going to go slapping a piece of bacon on all my Reese’s cups. That’s just ridiculous.

03 December 2009

Thriftiness... At What Cost?

Thrift stores. They’re grimy, musty, old and they smell like your grandmother’s basement. But underneath the filmy layers of dust lie unique trinkets and garments that you’ll never find in the Gap or at Pier 1.

Packed with more junk than your packrat uncle’s annual garage sale, thrift stores can often be a source of intense frustration. To really find an item of value like a vintage skirt not covered in blue 1980s sequins, come prepared to spend some serious time at the store. When thrifting, patience (and hand sanitizer) is crucial.

To see if digging through endless piles of second-hand scraps is really worthwhile, I spent 20 minutes in each of three prominent thrift shops down 41st Street, and here’s what I found:

Goodwill.

No thrift store adventure should go without Goodwill, my first stop on my Thrift Fest 2009. Only at Goodwill will you find such gems as a rack of ceramic, painted coffee mugs next to ‘the ladies bin’ of women’s lingerie. While the store is a bit cluttered, not to mention completely taken over by hundreds of pairs of high-waisted tapered-leg mom jeans, Goodwill touts some quality items with a seriously low price tag.

With the current Christmas season upon us, the store was brimming with Santa candleholders, reindeer table runners and plenty of fake Christmas trees (with prices ranging from $9 to $20).

Goodwill’s pricing system is its strongpoint. Rather than having to scour the garment for its hidden price tag, each item (regardless of size, quality or brand) is priced by its nature—shirts for $3.50, shoes for $4 and kitchen utensils a steal at $1.

Once I got past the bins of $2 stained pillows and $3 creepy dolls that resemble the Bride of Chucky, I found a sweet little brown, glazed ceramic 20-piece dish set for $8. Amidst all the aforementioned mom jeans (all organized by size, thankfully), I managed to spot a pair of DKNY skinny jeans in just my size. Priced at $4 a pop, I thought it practically a sin to pass this pair up.

(★★★ of four)

Y’s Buys.

Those weight-lifting, word-savvy mavericks at the YMCA came up with a catchy pun of a name for a stuffy, less-than-thrilling thrift shop.

Each item is individually, and arguably inconsistently, priced (I pity whoever must sit there and go through it all), with the seemingly higher quality, name brand items having a higher price—which seems like a rip-off at a ‘thrift’ store. A Wilson’s leather jacket was $40 while an off-brand one was only $10.

The store was packed literally to the ceiling with occasionally unrecognizable objects, like a box labeled “outdoor décor garland?” priced at $8, a high price for an object no one knows how to use.

Past the giant wall lined with framed Precious Moments poems, there were plastic bags galore containing various objects such as silverware, toy cars, hair dryers and dress up dolls. While I appreciated that someone took the time to assure that the set would stay together, I would have appreciated it even more had they made an effort to organize them… Well, it is a thrift store.

With a $100 couch, $60 lamp and an $800 ‘high quality’ dining table constituting the better part of the furniture section, this pricier thrift shop left me significantly underwhelmed and empty handed.

(★★ of four)

Savers.

Another longstanding staple in the thrift store scene, Savers wins the prize in organization. Here, t-shirts are sorted by size and color, and house wares are placed neatly on a shelf rather than tossed in a bin, making my 20-minute browsing session a breeze.

As if that wasn’t enough, Savers color-codes each price tag and holds a different promotion everyday featuring a certain color. The day I stopped by, anything (no matter the starting price) with a green tag with 99¢. After a shady pricing system like that of Y’s Buys, I appreciated the deal.

I found the jewelry in the display case to be a little pretentious and unnecessary, especially considering most of the necklaces inside I could have made in 4th grade. The prices were right, and I did score a green-tagged chunky blue beaded necklace for 99¢.

But, Savers’ bread and butter is really their extensive collection of clothes. From an “I’m with stupid” t-shirt to a pearly white wedding dress, the store offers a truly eccentric array of clothes and footwear. While wearing someone else’s pre-worn inevitably stinky shoes gives me athlete’s foot just thinking about it, the clothing section does feature some quality items for a reasonable price.

In addition to the pre-worn duds, Savers also sells an eclectic variety of new items, ranging from fur-lined knock-off brand Crocs (because you really need to wear your garden clogs in the winter), zebra print knock-off Uggs and men’s and women’s underwear (no one should buy used skivvies).

Flaunting a red, fur-lined fleece jacket for your puppy and a “Power Putty Slime” kit each for under $8, Savers lives up to its namesake, saving customers time and money by featuring some truly unique gadgets organized neatly on the shelves.

(★★★ of four)

Overall, my own personal Thrift Fest 2009 was a success. From gross, moldy mattresses to stylish vintage tweed blazers, I found some pretty interesting things.

So, is it worth it to come home coated with the dirt of people’s winter coats and knick-knacks? Does the low thrift store price of that tweed bomber jacket justify spending hours of your precious time rummaging through racks upon racks of frumpy 1962 power suits that only your great aunt would wear?

Yes and yes. To find unique, classic clothes and trinkets that your friends will admire, all it takes is 20 minutes and a bottle of hand sanitizer.