For the finale of his “Bacon Heart Attack Dinner,” the Dissident Chef added a post-dessert lagniappe of bacon chocolate chip cookies, hot from the oven. Talk about incredible: these bacon chocolate chip cookies were among the best cookies I’ve ever eaten. Many of my fellow diners made similar remarks about the cookies.
Maybe, if we’re lucky, the Dissident Chef will consider packaging these for wider distribution. (Whole Foods, Delmonico’s, Dean & Deluca, are you listening?)
Laid out like tiny machines of loving grace, or like a Japanese sushi platter, Dissident Chef’s glorious bacon sampler was a fetishistic array of bacon delights. This displayed the spectrum and variety across the field of dreams otherwise called BACON.
Bacon & Rabbit Presse, with pureed turnips, date, and bacon cream.
This is where we can safely say “Over the top, dude.”
Sweet and earthy, fatty and chewy, this dish was ridiculous. By that, I mean so absurdly rich and good you fantasize about it later. Or perhaps weekly, and perhaps for years to come.
To ameliorate the panic: thankfully, there was no heart attack involved anywhere during the course of the dinner. And, we presume, none afterwards.
But if one dish made my blood-thumper expand to a hardening cannonball rubbing like an angry pirate ship against the inside of my ribs rushing towards enemy mast, this was the dish. Breathe deep, breathe deep.
The colors of the bacon here—bright pink flesh, Tide-y whitie fat stripes—were modestly terrifying. I suspected it was slow-cooked via sous vide but my mind saw “raw” bacon….by this time, I was too gone to care. Trust is surrendered at the click, when I signed up online for this blind bacon masquerade.
To a certain extent, underground or ‘subculture dining,’ as the Dissident Chef calls it, is akin to his love of Jean Lafitte and pirates. He literally has a captive audience; nobody knows how many course are coming out, what’s coming next, when it’s going to end. So at this point, I’m feeling very along for the ride and very far afloat in the richness of bacon cream, softness of pureed turnips and very rich and fatty rabbit and bacon. I’ve never been one to put the kibosh on pirate ships, anyway: I had a pirate birthday party when I was 7, decades before Johnny Depp made rogue vogue.
Turnips are fantastic root vegetables and aren’t given the glory of cousins like potatoes or carrots, so the puree alone was great. The rabbit and bacon presse—flesh & fat—was a stunning morsel when paired with the sweet, chewy date, the root-down turnip smoothness, and the crème de bacon. Really, bacon cream? OMG…bottle that stuff ASAP.
Overall, the ‘bacon heart attack’ evening was glorious; this was one of the evening’s singular triumphs.
Home-made Spam with cippolini onions, fingerling potatoes, bacon broth
In square bowls came a lovely little spam and broth, to be sopped up with great bread. I felt like a character in a Dickens novel, wanting some more, but probably slurped more graciously in my broth-swigging.
The spam was made by the Dissident Chef by combining various meat parts into a mixture that included bacon and odd parts like trotters. The texture was indeed Spam-like, or perhaps like a softer, more robustly flavored sausage. The fingerling potatoes were the country cousins who didn’t add much to the party and were probably embarrassed to even be there. Another nice surprise; another amazing little taste mob. Really a small but great dish.
For course 1 of Subculture Dining’s “Bacon Heart Attack Dinner,” the Dissident Chef served little chicken-fried wild boar bacon balls, paired with escarole, The wild boar bacon’s chewiness and rough smokiness tastes not unlike a softer, more palatable form of jerky. The quick chicken fried style added a bit of texture to the fatty boar, which visually counterplayed the brilliant green salad of escarole and wild sugar snap peas. The slight bitterness of the escarole and the bright, mildly sweet peas were a great contrast against the fatty, smoky wild boar bacon ball. A great opening dish.
The Bergerac Rose is a combination of merlot, cabernet franc, and cabernet sauvignon. Soft fruit tones here, a nice opening taste that brightens up the dark smokiness of the wild boar. In the glass, it’s a bright, zippy pink. And against the bright plated greens, it’s a pairing made in Laura Ashley / Ralph Lauren / prep school heaven. A visual feast, and great sipping with the escarole, wild snap peas and boar bacon ball.
For the opening act of Subculture Dining’s “Bacon Heart Attack Dinner,” the Dissident Chef and his crew offered bacon-infused martinis made with Hangar One Vodka. Amazing. The mini martinis were smoky, cold, crisp; a compelling ‘eye-opener’ for a bacon dinner. They were paired with sweet donut balls rolled in pulverized bacon & sugar, quite an aperitif and amuse-bouche combo.
Bacon-infused Martini - Hangar One Vodka
Bacon & Brown Sugar Donuts
The bacon vodka aperitif was paired with bacon-brown-sugar donuts, served on a platter of woven bacon. The bacon was crushed with brown sugar and the hot little donuts were rolled in it. This was a great opening act for the Bacon Heart Attack Dinner. Whatever was to happen after this, I was aboard. A great start.
Bacon-Brown-Sugar Donuts
The photo above are the donuts in progress, tossed in the bowl. The photo below is the final presentation of donut balls, which sat atop a woven bacon napkin atop a small platter.
Bacon-Brown Sugar Donuts - Bacon Heart Attack
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