2009 Bacon Gift Guide Item 2: Bacon Watch

This isn't a new item, but a fast classic--Archie McPhee's bacon watch should be on the wrist of every baconeer in the world. Sadly, most wrists in the BDJ Labs are still adorned by borning, non-meaty timepieces because no one's gifted us with one of these. Santa, if you're listening, please stuff one of these in every BDJ Labs staffer's stocking, so that we all can have a merry, porky Christmas.

ArchieMcPhee, $24.99.

2009 Bacon Gift Guide Item 1: MMMvelopes

First, there were plain boring envelopes that, when licked, gave a mild but weird chemical taste. Then, office-product innovators came up with minty ones--nice try, but they didn't make the task of mailing stuff much better (or less tongue-sticky). Now, thank the Lord, there are MMMvelopes. From the makers of BaconSalt, these mailers not only LOOK like bacon, the sticky stuff on the flap TASTES like bacon. The USPS might want to prepare for the inevitable rush of mail that's coming, now that these babies are commercially available--they just might revive the lost art of letter writing.

25 envelopes for $6.99, www.mmmvelopes.com

Give the Gift of Bacon

Tis the season of giving, and eating. What better gift to give, then, than bacon? That's why BDJ Labs is stuffing your stocking with its annual Bacon Gift Guide next week. We'll share with you the hottest (and tastiest) pork-themed presents to give to your beloved baconeers, or to buy for yourself.

Have you spotted any delicious bacony gifts? If so, please send 'em to our attention: bdjlabs@gmail.com. If your idea gets listed, you just might win a fabulous prize from our bacon prize closet!

Happy Holidays!

BDJ

Aside of Bacon: The Lost Art of Liner Notes

Yeah, we know--records have nothing to do with bacon. However, we picked up a record at a resale shop, and the liner notes are too delicious (there's your connection, if you need one) NOT to share.

Long before MP3 downloads set the recording industry on its ear, there were these big, flat, Frisbee-looking things called "records"--also known as "LPs" or "albums." Still used by DJs and musicphile hipster doofuses, they're now an endangered species. While listening to your iPod just calls for pushing buttons, playing a record is a physical, almost ritualistic experience. Slowly slip the delicate disc from its cardboard shell, touching only the edges (fingerprints and scratches are instant death to a record), and gingerly lower it onto the turntable before carefully resting the needle onto the album. Head BDJ Labs Tech Jenni S. collects albums, but while others select theirs by the quality of the music or affection for the artist, she chooses her albums for the uniqueness of the covers. Her living room wall is decorated with a scary array of candy-colored covers, singers with bad hair, and curious drawings of beer cans.

Lost with the decline of records is the art of liner notes. Each album cover had about a square foot of space to entice eyeballs with the cover (one of the most enticing being Herb Alpert's Whipped Cream and Other Delights, featuring a woman wearing nothing but dessert topping), and lure them in with text on the back cover. These little nuggets of literature were important enough to the recording industry that they used to give out Grammys for them. Stan Cornyn earned the title "King of the Liner Notes" for writing scores of these testaments, making even the dreckiest of dreck sound like aural gold. In the case of Nancy Sinatra's 1966 album Boots, the author took the whole "seduction" perhaps a little too literally:

"She looks good, dresses good, lives good, eats, drinks, loves, breathes, dances, sings, cries good. Five foot three and tiger eyes. A mouth made for lollipops or kisses. Stingers or melting smiles. Ninety-five pounds of affection.

She's been there already. Barely in her twenties, she looks younger. That look, like Lolita Humbert, like Daisy Clover. The power to exalt, or to destroy, wanting only the former, but unafraid to invoke the latter if the time comes.

The eyes that see through, know more, look longer.

Unafraid to pull on the boots again, toss off a burnt out thing with a casual 'So long, babe,' and get.

A young fragile living thing, on its own in a woundrous world. On her own. Earning her daily crepes and Cokes by singing the facts of love. Her voice tells as much as her songs. No faked up grandure, her voice is like it is, a litte tired, little put down, a lot loving.

No one is born sophisticated. It's a place you have to crawl to, crawling out of hayseed country, over miles of unsanded pavement, past Trouble, past corners and forks with no auto club signs to point you, till you get there and you wake up wiser.

She's arrived. She sings you about the long crawl. And makes you have to listen.

She's there."

Pretty heavy stuff for a record that consists mostly of covers, capped off by a novelty song. Still, the liner notes give you something to look at while you wait for the music to start in that little gap between the time you drop the needle on the spinning record and the notes hit your ears.

Test #191: Bacon and ALMOND JOY PIECES

The subject
When not eating bacon, the staff of BDJ Labs often fortifies themselves with one of the other major food groups: candy. Almond Joy is one of our favorite chocolatey confections, but we have to agree with the sentiment of the taller gentleman in this comic: while the candy delivers the eponymous nuts the label promises, we've never munched down on Almond Joy and found it contained actual boundless happiness.

Almond Joy Pieces, however, are another story. When we first encountered them at the National Confectioners Association's 2009 show, we were happy to see the fine people at Hershey's had the bright idea to expand the "pieces" concept to other candies in its stable, including York Peppermint Patties, Hershey's Dark and Almond Joy. While all were yummy, the Almond Joy Pieces made us jump for...well, joy. They pack wee pieces of almond and coconut in a candy shell, perfectly replicating the experience of eating the full-size candy bar in a wee little nugget of yum. The only letdown: the candy wouldn't be on the market until the end of the year, which meant that when our samples were eaten (30 seconds after we got home from the show, sadly), we'd have MONTHS to wait until we could restock.

We couldn't stop ourselves from happy-dancing when we saw the bright blue package on our local grocery shelves last week. We took home two of the stand-up pouches and promptly wrapped some of the buttony candies in bacon.

The results
Ooh, baby. The shell melted completely, and the colored sugar oozed out the side, which lead to blue bacon (neat!). What remained was the chocolate, almond, and coconut goodness, so the tidbits were pretty much just bacon-covered Almond Joy--a flavor combination we give all-around enthusiastic thumps up. Definitely worth repeating. Our one recommendation: if you or your guests might find Smurf-colored bacon a turnoff, weed out the blue Pieces and use just the beigey ones.

The conclusion: Bacon + Almond Joy Pieces = ooh, baby.

Bacon Bit: Genius in Marketing

There are hardly words to express our glee. If only this bacon-hawking monster vehicle were parked in our neighborhood. Thanks to Carl Weaver at the National Confectioners Association for bringing this awesome sight to our attention.

Test #190: Bacon and CARROT

The subject
People say they love a certain food all the time. But when we at BDJ Labs say we love carrots, we mean it. Carrots are the closest to candy that a vegetable can come, and we sing the praises of the person who first packaged baby carrots. This love for the vegetable traces back to our childhoods, during which carrots were frequent, welcome occupants of our lunchboxes--and in the case of BDJ Labs' Head Tech Jenni S., a carrot was a cherished friend. Well, sort of; she had a stuffed carrot doll (like the one at left, only about a foot tall and with dangly arms/legs) that she carried around. She was a weird kid.

But we digress. Carrots rule--not nearly as much as bacon, but they rank among our favorite non-meat edibles. We at BDJ Labs figured that wrapping a lucky wee baby carrot in a strip of salted pork could only increase our deep abiding love for the king of vegetables, so we swaddled one infant carrot in a bacon blanket. Let's see how the delivery turned out...

The results
Our expectation of success didn't diminish our pleasure at the results. The carrot cooked up perfectly--still crisp, not at all mushy--and its sweetness increased, making it a perfect complement to the savory bacon. Were we to do this recipe again, we'd bacon-wrap a whole litter of baby carrots, bake them, and sprinkle a wee bit of brown sugar on them in the last few minutes of cooking. Mmm, candied bacon carrots...

The conclusion: Bacon + carrot = Thumbs up, doc