Yep, they’ve poured the foundation and have started construction!
I’m sure I’ll end up gaining 400 pounds, but I don’t even care – it’s In-N-Out, and what a way to go!
There’s been some speculation (at least in my circle) about the location, here’s where it’s gonna be located – just a few blocks from my house!
Today was my niece’s birthday, and she requested that I make these, so I thought I’d share the recipe (since my other niece requested that I tell her how to make them).
WARNING: These little suckers are delicious and addictive. I take no responsibility for any resulting cravings or compulsions. Hey, you’re reading this blog and I talk about food – if you get hungry and make this stuff and then form an expensive cooking habit, don’t blame me.
Grilled Bacon-Wrapped Jalapeño Poppers
12 average-sized jalapeño peppers
2 cups of shredded cheese
12 strips of bacon
A few notes on ingredients before we move on to the method.
Peppers
First, look for peppers that are of a size that can be consumed in 1-2 bites, you don’t want anything too big.
Cheese
Choose a good quality cheese. I use Monterrey Jack, but a nice sharp cheddar would be nice, and I know some people dig on cream cheese, too. In fact, I’ve even seen recipes where people season and spice the cheese before stuffing it in the poppers by adding cilantro, salt, pepper, garlic, etc. Have a little fun here, you really can’t screw these up.
Bacon
Again, quality of ingredients is key here. I prefer a nice thick-cut apple wood smoked or even peppered bacon. If you get cheap bacon that’s thinly sliced, your bacon will burn before the peppers are cooked and the cheese is melted. Check with the deli in your supermarket, they’ll usually have some pretty decent offerings.
Turn your grill on to it’s highest setting and get it rip-snorting hot. Depending on your grill, I’d give it at least 15-20 minutes.
Make a slice along one side of each of the peppers. All you want is a slit from stem to end that you can gently pry open and stuff the cheese into, but before you get all excited and start jamming cheese into the pepper, you may want to get a small spoon or melon baller and scrape out the seeds and especially the ribs – this is where the heat is. Now, if you dig on spicy food, make your choice accordingly. You can leave all the seeds and ribs, just the ribs, or whatever. It’s up to you, and how much heat you like.
Once you’ve got the peppers prepared according to your own taste, stuff whatever shredded cheese you’re using into the slit carefully, so as not to split the pepper all the way open. If you do, you’ll lose all the yummy cheesiness to the fiery depths of your grill as it melts and drips away into oblivion.
Now that all the peppers are stuffed, wrap each pepper in a strip of bacon and secure it with a toothpick. If you wanna, you can soak the toothpicks in water for an hour or so beforehand to keep them from burning up. Me? I don’t care if they burn up so I don’t bother with this step. I know there’s a toothpick in each one, even if I can’t see it, so I’m on the look out as I’m eating it. Never had a problem yet.
Now, throw them on to your grill slit-side down and turn the temp to medium low. I know, it seems counter-intuitive to grill them with the slit facing down, but you gotta sear that side of the bacon first. You’ll probably want to keep the lid on your grill closed to retain as much heat as possible, but don’t leave them there for any longer than about 3-4 minutes or you’ll start losing the precious cheesy center as it begins to liquefy. When the bacon has been seared on the slit side, flip ‘em over and give them another 8-10 minutes. Your grill will have cooled significantly by this point, and should get the bacon good and crispy without losing too much of the cheese, although a few drips are normal.
The other thing I should caution you about is flare-ups. You’re cooking bacon on an open flame, and that can get tricky. If you’ve got a large enough grill, try using a two-zone “indirect heat” setup (which is what I usually do). I’ve got three burners on my grill, so I usually pre-heat using all three, and then turn the center burner off and place the poppers there. That way, they get heat from two sides and as long as I keep the lid closed I maintain a pretty respectable 475-500 under the hood. If you don’t have a large enough grill, lay a baking sheet or some aluminum foil right on the grill to catch all the flammable drippings, but keep a VERY close eye on it, as you’re basically collecting all the flammable stuff into one concentrated spot and it can burst into flames more easily than you may expect.
Let them sit for a few minutes once you take them off, then serve will still good and hot and gooey in the middle. Ta-da.
It’s recently come to my attention that not everyone knows how to properly cook bacon. I know this sounds silly, but seriously, there’s an easy and PROPER way to cook bacon, and apparently there are very few people who know this method and even fewer who actually use it. So I’m gonna let you in on the secret. Ready? Good.
Here’s what you’ll need:
a half-sheet baking pan
a wire cooling rack that fits the half-sheet pan
an oven
bacon
place the half-sheet pan on the counter top and set the wire rack inside the pan. Now lay the bacon out in strips on the rack. Turn the oven on to “Broil” and set to “HI”. put the bacon on the center rack of the oven
DO NOT WALK AWAY!
Depending on the quality of your bacon and how thickly it has been sliced, the bacon may need anywhere from 2 minutes to 6 minutes on the first side. when the bacon starts to curl and the outside edges are just starting to get crispy, pull it out and turn each strip of bacon over. Put the tray back in the oven and cook for less than half the time of the first side, or until it’s reached the crispiness level that you want. I prefer meatier bacon, Megan and Stefahn prefer it crispier.
You see, this method allows for even cooking, lets most of the grease and fat drip away as it cooks, and produces bacon that nice and flat, ready for BLT’s or just plain eatin’.
There’s never a need to put bacon in a frying pan, unless it’s gonna end up as a part of something bigger, like a nice chicken carbonara or something.
See those stylish flip flops right there? Pretty sweet, huh? That’s what Megan got me for Father’s day, only it just got here last week because she had a helluva time tracking them down.
What’s that? “They’re just an ordinary pair of flip flops” you say?
You, sir, are incorrect!
Look closely at the picture above. See that little round knob in the arch of the one on the ground? No, it’s not some goofy inflation system – these aren’t Reebok’s and it ain’t 1987. It’s much cooler than that. It’s actually a cap, a lid if you will.
What does it cover?
Well, funny you should ask! You see, the sole of each flip flop has a small flask molded into it!
That’s right, ladies and gentlemen, these flops are for drinkin’! Although you can’t quite tell from the picture there, I’ve got the left one filled with Jaegermeister and the right one filled with 151 – SMF to go, baby!
so, you can pretty much rest assured that when I’m sportin’ these bad boys, I’m in a good mood!
You may want to sit back and relax, and perhaps even grab a bite to eat before you read any further. I’m about to share with you the tale of one of the top 5 meals I’ve ever eaten.
So, comfy? Well fed? Ok, here goes…
Once upon a time, there was this guy named Joel Palmer, and he lived in Indiana. It was around 1845 that he got bored with things there and decided to head out west and see what all the fuss was about. As it turns out, Joel was pretty well suited to frontier life and the pioneering lifestyle, qualities that greatly benefited several of the wagon trains he led. He was pretty hardcore, too – climbed Mt. Hood in the middle of winter in freakin’ moccassins, and discovered the Barlow Pass.
Joel was a statesman, diplomat, adventurer and was pretty much the real-life Chuck Norris of his day, and in the middle of all of his adventuring and diplomating and things, he built this house.
Fast forward to 1996. Jack Czarnecki bought the house and turned it into a restaurant, and built a reputation for excellent food and service in a relaxed fine-dining atmosphere. About 5 years ago, Jack decided he wanted to spend more time in the hills and woods of Oregon hunting for wild mushrooms and truffles (side note: Oregon truffles are held as equals with their European cousins in many culinary circles), and his son Chris had been gradually assuming more responsibilities in and out of the kitchen, so it was a natural and seamless passing of the torch when Chris took over in 2009.
Which brings us to June 2010. Megan had taken a trip to see her ocean. She loves the Oregon Coast. I flew up on a Friday to meet her and drive home together. Now, I have often lamented the fact that Megan experienced what a truffle was before I did, and that she has actually enjoyed them several times without me while I had never had the pleasure. That’s just wrong. So, as soon as I had gotten into the car at the airport, Megan asked me if I was hungry.
Seriously?
Well, bless her ever-loving heart, she had been on the internet looking for restaurants that served truffles, having heard that Oregon truffles were every bit as good as the European ones, and had stumbled across the Joel Palmer House, which just happened to be right along the way of our two-hour drive from Portland to the coast. I was giddy with anticipation (and probably a fair portion of hunger as well).
When we pulled up, I felt woefully under dressed in my jeans and hoodie, and although the other diners varied in dress from my level of casual to a jacket and tie somewhat more suited to a fine dining establishment, the hostess and staff made us feel right at home and perfectly comfortable.
It bears mentioning that everything at the Joel Palmer House is mushroom-centric – the wild mushrooms and truffles that Jack forages are the staple of their menu – but even if you think you don’t like mushrooms, I am confident that their menu will surprise and delight you if you are willing to be adventurous to even the slightest degree.
The hostess let us know that they served in the European style, which meant that we didn’t have an assigned server, but that every member of the staff was at our disposal. The Somelier arrived at our table shortly after we were seated and I chose a glass of Pinot Grigio, which was excellent.
For appetizers, I ordered the Foie Gras and Porcini Ravioli with Port-Reduction and Black Truffles, and Megan had the Three Mushroom Tart, which is a Palmer House Specialty.
When I was telling Stefahn about our experince after we had returned home, he let me know that I was an asshole for ordering Foie Gras. I don’t care, it was delicious and perfect – the flavors worked together so brilliantly that there didn’t seem to be any transition between the layers of sweet and savory goodness and delicate texture of the ravioli and filling, but more a gentle progression as smooth as the tide coming in on an Oregon beach. It was heavenly.
And I was transfixed by my own appetizer until I made the mistake of sampling the mushroom tart Megan had ordered. It was, as she put it, the single best food she’s ever eaten. It came in a very close second for me, nearly eclipsing the Potatoes Au Gratin at the Ritz-Carlton in Naples. Delicious doesn’t begin to describe the experience. It was rich and savory, and had the texture of a superbly tender meat pie. The crust was light and flaky, as close to perfection as I’ve ever had, and although there was a very definite earthiness that you would expect from a tart made entirely of mushrooms, it was a balanced and deep flavor, not overwhelmingly “mushroom-y” in it’s presence.
In fact, it was so absolutely perfect that I requested the chef at our table. Chris appeared promptly, and I asked (understanding the long-held tradition of closely guarding recipe secrets) if he would be willing to share the recipe. His surprising reply was “sure! Hang on one second.” He turned back into the kitchen, and returned a few moments later with a card containing the recipe, which he presented to me. He then spent the next few minutes explaining his method and a few of his particular ways of preparing the tart so that it turned out perfectly. I thanked him wholeheartedly, congratulating him on such culinary brilliance, and returned to the meal.
Both Megan and I chose the Filet Mignon of Painted Hills Beef served with Szechwan Pepper Porcini Sauce. I don’t know if I can say it was the best filet I’ve ever had, simply because the field is separated by such a narrow margin. I mean, is filet’s were an Olympic event, the top 10 filets I’ve ever eaten would be separated by mere thousandth’s of a second, and the filet Chris prepared for us was easily in that field – tender, juicy, flavorful and expertly seared. The Pepper Porcini sauce was, by design I’m sure, a glorious compliment to the cut - rich and savory, with an ever-so-slight heat that enhanced the natural flavor of the meat.
To finish things off, Megan ordered the house-made concord grape sorbet, which was a fantastic experience of sweet and tart, very much akin to eating frozen concord grapes, I’m sure. On the dessert menu I noticed a mushroom ice cream, and my curiosity got the better of me. As it turns out, I;m glad it did! The single scoop of pale mocha colored nirvana arrived, and at the first taste, I was enveloped by tastes of caramel and rum (although it contains neither), gently supported by the underlying subtle earthiness of the porcini mushrooms used to make this divinely inspired concoction. I can say no more than this: it was the perfect ending to an excellent meal.
Chris visited our table once again, and he and I talked for about 15 minutes or so (a generous allowance for a chef to give any guest!), and he shared more of his kitchen secrets and methods, and was as candid and charming as any man I’ve ever met. It’s clear that Chef Chris has a passion for what he does, and his love of his craft shows on the plate as well as the warmth of the entire experience.
If you find yourself anywhere within several hundred miles of the Joel Palmer House, it’s worth whatever effort may be required to make a visit.
Hell, it’s almost worth the14 hour drive to me right now.
