The idea hit me like a stroke of genius.  If everything tastes better with bacon, surely dessert does too.  A handful of them get it right, like Roni-Sue’s bacon buttercrunch.  (Save yourself from Vosges’ bacon bar though.)  But I wanted to try something new: “double” bacon cookies.

A couple years ago, The NY Times ran a recipe for bacon-dripping cookies, but there was no bacon in them.  Other recipes have bacon bits, but they make no mention of drippings.  Why oh why would you waste pork fat?

The draw of bacon cookies is the balance of sweet and salty, and I know of no other recipe that epitomizes the two like olive shortbread.  I love them so much that I used them as a base for these experimental cookies.  Of course I substituted the olives with crumbled bacon, and instead of butter, I used the drippings.  After all that work, I expected to hit the jackpot.  But my flash of genius was more like a flash in the pan.  The cookies were nauseatingly rich.  The texture was literally like sand; they wouldn’t hold together.  Maybe I didn’t render enough fat (more on that later), or maybe you can’t make all-lard cookies.  I think the bacon-and-lard idea is better suited for savory crackers.  Not so avant-garde, I know.

Why did I even bother sharing this idea then?  Because I kick myself when someone beats me to it.  Like the time I made the crispiest pizza without a wood-fired oven or a pizza stone.  A cast iron skillet did the trick.  By the time I made it known, it was too late: Heston Blumenthal was credited with the idea.  Never mind that I did it more than a year before he documented it in his book, In Search of Perfection.  See what procrastination does?

Or sometimes I do start a popular idea, and it gets passed down so much that people forget the source.  More than three years ago, I created a knock-off recipe for Nutella.  One that had cocoa powder instead of melted chocolate, just like Nutella itself.  At the time, I couldn’t find any such recipes on the Internet, so I shared it here.  This Feb., the L.A. Times ran a similar recipe, citing the same book that I did.  Heck, even the title was similar.  “Nuts for Nutella” vs. “Nutty for Nutella.”  Perhaps I’m paranoid, but in the past people have copied my recipe word for word and passed it off as their own.

Let this serve as a marker.  If three months or three years from now, someone comes up with a great bacon shortbread recipe, perhaps a seed was planted here.   For those who are wondering, here’s the recipe I used.  I didn’t like it though.  Sorry, no pictures, as I only had a pile of crumbs.  These would probably be better with butter instead of drippings.  Too lazy to try it again though.

P.S. – this dough is also good with seaweed or furikake.

Bacon Shortbread Cookies

Adapted from Susan Herrmann Loomis and The Traveler’s Lunchbox
Yield: about 34 cookies

1 to 1 1/2 lbs uncooked bacon, to yield 1/2 cup drippings and 1/2 cup bacon bits
3/4 cup powdered sugar, sifted or 1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons granulated sugar, whizzed in a food processor until fine
1 Tablespoon neutral-flavored oil (Don’t get smart and try olive oil, peanut oil, etc.  Your tastebuds will go into shock)
1 1/4 cups all purpose flour
1/8 teaspoon salt

Cook the bacon.  The cleanest, unfussiest way is to bake it at 400° F in a large foil-lined baking sheet for about 20 min.  Turn the bacon over half way through cooking.  Don’t put the bacon on racks.  The little grates are a pain to clean.  Also, don’t be like me and bake it at 200° F for 3 hours, no matter how good it sounds.  The fat won’t render all the way.

Reserve 1/2 cup of bacon fat and let it cool to room temperature.  Crumble 1/2 a cup of bacon, and save the rest.  It keeps for a long time in the freezer.

Preheat oven to 350° F. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper or foil.

In a large bowl or the bowl of an electric mixer, cream the bacon fat until it is soft. Mix in the sugar until blended, then drizzle in the oil and mix until combined. Add the flour and the salt, and mix gently but thoroughly until the dough is smooth, then add the bacon bits and mix until they are thoroughly incorporated into the dough.

With your hands, press the dough into the pan until it is 1/4-inch thick. Refrigerate the dough for at least 30 minutes, and up to 24 hours. Score the dough into rectangles with a knife.

Bake until the cookies are golden, about 15 minutes. Remove from oven and immediately cut the cookies while they are still hot. Cool on wire racks.

If you find that the middle pieces are still doughy, re-bake them in a preheated 300° F oven for about 10 minutes.

This shortbread has such a short ingredient list that you might be tempted to overlook it. There’s no chocolate or vanilla. Not even eggs or baking powder/soda. There’s just flour, sugar, butter, and salt (and a secret flavoring agent).

Despite its simple nature, there’s an amazing number of things that can go wrong with shortbread: it comes out too plain, hard, dry, doughy, greasy, or stale-tasting. But you can’t mess up shortbread if you make olive cookies (scourtins) from the reputable French chef, Susan Loomis. The dough is crisp yet delicate. Every bite melts in your mouth. The olives don’t overpower the cookies, either. Whether you can taste it or not, every dessert has a pinch of salt to round out the flavors. In this case, the salt predominantly comes from the olives. (For more olive oil desserts, try making chocolate mousse, truffles, or gelato.)

The first time I made these cookies, they were supposed to be a birthday gift. Then I ate 10 in one sitting, and I eventually had to re-bake an entire batch. They were so addictive that I made about six more batches after that (as gifts, of course). They’re the most repeated dessert I’ve made all year.

Since the genius of these cookies is their unusual source of salt, I thought of another savory substitute: seaweed. I know vegetables don’t sound appetizing in cookies, but just think of seaweed as the complex version of sea salt.

When I thumbed through my pantry last night, I saw furikake (a mix of soy-glazed bonito flakes, sesame seeds, and nori) and thought, “Hey, why not? Fish come from the sea, too.” So I made two batches of cookies (which you should always do with this recipe, because you will run out!).

While the furikake tasted great in the raw dough (I loved the sweet-salty combo of the fish and the soy sauce), the fish flakes didn’t keep their crunchy texture, and the flavor became too distracting. It was still tasty, but I preferred the seaweed version.

PS-I conceptualized these cookies a long time ago, but that darn David Lebovitz scooped me. But my adaptation is different, as there’s a lot more seaweed but no egg. For another sweet-savory twist, I bet bacon would be good, and you could substitute some rendered bacon fat for the butter.

Seaweed Shortbread Cookies

This recipe doubles easily (trust me, you will need to double it), so you can munch on the cookies and still have some left for gifting. They stay delicious for weeks and hold up well in the mail.

Adapted from Susan Herrmann Loomis and The Traveler’s Lunchbox
Yield: about 34 cookies

1 stick unsalted butter, softened
3/4 cup powdered sugar, sifted or 1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons granulated sugar, whizzed in a food processor until fine
1 Tablespoon roasted sesame oil (recommended brand: Kadoya)
1 1/4 cups all purpose flour
1/8 teaspoon salt
1/4 cup crushed wakame flakes

Preheat oven to 350° F. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper or foil.

In a large bowl or the bowl of an electric mixer, cream the butter until it is soft and pale yellow. Mix in the sugar until blended, then drizzle in the sesame oil and mix until combined. Add the flour and the salt, and mix gently but thoroughly until the dough is smooth, then add the wakame flakes and mix until they are thoroughly incorporated into the dough.

With your hands, press the dough into the pan until it is 1/4-inch thick. Refrigerate the dough for at least 30 minutes, and up to 24 hours. Score the dough into rectangles with a knife.

Bake until the cookies are golden, about 15 minutes. Remove from oven and immediately cut the cookies while they are still hot. Cool on wire racks.

If you find that the middle pieces are still doughy, re-bake them in a preheated 300° F oven for about 10 minutes.

Variation: Substitute 1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons bonito-flavored furikake for the arame seaweed. (Furikake is like rice confetti. It’s also a delicious seasoning for cold silken tofu, eggs, noodles, popcorn, and salad. If you want to make your own, Gourmet and Egullet have recipes.)

For a twist on cheese straws, try making savory cheese biscotti. These “cookies” are macho enough for Super Bowl parties but elegant enough for other occasions.

This recipe is adapted from Marcy Goldman, the creative cook behind Betterbaking.com. Usually, recipes fall under two camps: classical or fun. Reference books like The Cake Bible have trustworthy recipes, but after a while, I want something more than basic sponge cake. Then there’s the comfort-food recipes, like Paula Deen’s bacon-wrapped mac and cheese. But can you trust Paula Deen? She of the Velveeta chocolate fudge? Fortunately, you get great results with Marcy’s recipes, and there’s a twist to keep things interesting.

The secret to these biscotti is wine, which makes them taste even cheesier. I paired Gewürztraminer with Mimolette cheese (leftover from the CulinaryCorps potluck). Mimolette looks like cantaloupe, but the flavor is a cross between cheddar and parmesan. Because it’s firm, crunchy bits of cheese remain after baking.

After the first baking, these biscotti are as flavorful and tender as Red Lobster’s cheddar biscuits. I don’t know what the “unscotti” are like when they’re cool; I couldn’t wait that long. But my gut says that this recipe is a two-for-one. Bake once, and you have biscuits. Bake twice, and you have crunchy cheese sticks.

Savory Cheese Biscotti

Adapted from A Passion for Baking by Marcy Goldman

Makes 2 1/2 to 3 1/2 dozen biscotti, depending on size

Any firm cheese and wine will work here: the original recipe calls for Parmesan and Chianti. To lighten things up, you can probably reduce the oil by half, since these biscotti are rich.

1/2 cup olive oil
3 large eggs
1 1/4 teaspoons salt, or to taste (depending on how salty your cheese is, you can reduce or increase the salt by 1/4 teaspoon)
1 tablespoon sugar
4 teaspoons cracked black pepper
2 tablespoons finely minced fresh rosemary, parsley, or chives
1 teaspoon garlic powder
1/2 cup Gewürztraminer wine
2 cups freshly grated Mimolette cheese
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
2 to 2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour

1. Preheat oven to 350F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper or greased foil.
2. In a mixer bowl, blend oil, eggs, salt, pepper, herbs, and garlic powder. Blend in wine, cheese, baking powder, baking soda, and flour to make a stiff dough.
3. Spread dough into a log about 10 inches long and 4 to 5 inches across and pat down to square off the dough neatly.
4. Bake until set, about 35 to 45 minutes. Cool slightly on baking sheet. Wrap and refrigerate log 1 hour (this step ensures that the biscotti don’t fall apart when you slice them). Using a long serrated knife, slice log into 1/4-inch-thick slices.
5. Preheat oven to 300F. Return biscotti to baking sheets and bake a second time to crisp, about 20 minutes, turning once at midway point to ensure even baking.
6. Taste one biscotto after it cools. If it is crisp, biscotti are done. Otherwise, bake a little longer, 5 to 10 minutes. Let cool completely on baking sheets.

It takes a lot to steer me away from sweets. Once in a while, something so good comes along that I can’t wait to eat it first thing in the morning. One such food is hummus, which I’ve gobbled down at breakfast. It’s so versatile. It can be a dip, sandwich filling, and if thinned out enough, pasta sauce or salad dressing. You don’t even have to stick to the combo of chickpeas and sesame butter. Cashew butter is an excellent substitute: according to Venturesome Vegetarian Cooking, it makes everything creamy and sweet. (Full disclosure: I’ve worked with the author before, but this book packs the easiest, most delicious vegan recipes out there.)

Since it’s fall, I made pumpkin hummus with cashew butter. I’ve eaten it for breakfast several times, and I hope you do too! This version can be used for sweet or savory applications. If you want it “sweeter,” add cinnamon. It will taste like pumpkin pie dip but without any added sugar. If you’re looking for more Thanksgiving recipes, give this one a try.

Pumpkin Hummus

1 cup raw cashews
1 1/2 cups pumpkin puree (canned is fine)
1 tablespoon olive oil
1/8 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon paprika
1/8 teaspoon salt

1. Toast the cashews in a preheated 350F oven until golden brown, about 15 minutes. Check the nuts halfway through and stir them to ensure even browning.
2. In a food processor, grind the cashews for several minutes and scrape down the bowl occasionally, until they turn into nut butter.
3. Add the remaining ingredients and process until smooth. If desired, add a couple tablespoons of water to thin the mixture out.
4. Serve with chips, crackers, bread, sliced vegetables or apples.

Variations:
Pumpkin pie: Add 1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon and omit the paprika.
Savory: Increase the salt to 1/4 teaspoon and add 1/8 teaspoon ground cumin and a dash of cayenne pepper.

Notes:
If you don’t want to toast and grind your cashews, substitute 1/2 cup minus 1 tablespoon cashew butter and reduce the salt.

Like a lazy cook, I eyeballed the salt and spices, so you don’t have to follow the amounts exactly. Just add them to taste.

Sur la Table and the Food Network want you to believe that you need a $200 KitchenAid stand mixer or Le Crueset pan to be a serious cook. In reality, you only need $10 to buy one of the most durable and versatile pieces of cookware: the cast iron skillet. It is nonstick (no need to worry about Teflon poisoning), browns evenly and can go from the stove to the oven. I’ve had great success using it for pancakes, chicken with 40 cloves of garlic (you get an amazing crust and sweet, creamy garlic), tarte tatin and BREAD.

The secret to crusty artisan-style bread is baking on a pizza stone. Of course, it’s a huge investment. You can get around it by buying a ceramic tile from a hardware store, but what else are you going to use that tile for? Because of cast iron’s ability to hold in heat, it makes beautiful brown crusts. Plus, you can use it as a griddle, casserole dish, frying pan and bakeware.

Before Sullivan Street Bakery revealed its wildly popular no-knead bread recipe (it’s baked in a cast iron pot) and Mario Batali sold cast iron pizza pans, I made cast iron skillet-pizza, two years ago. Honest, look at the file information in the photos!

By baking in cast iron, you get charred crusts that’s the stuff of New York legends. You don’t need a pizza stone. You don’t need a coal-fired oven. Just start with your favorite pizza crust recipe and preheat the oven with the pan inside. Then, generously dust a pizza peel or cutting board with cornmeal or rice flour. Shape your crust on the board and add the toppings. When ready, slide the crust into the smoking hot pan and bake as directed.

To reheat leftover pizza, cover it any pan (cast iron or not) over low heat for 5-10 minutes, or until the crust comes back to life and the cheese is melted. Even Domino’s tastes divine this way.

Resources:

How to care for a cast iron skillet
Note that you’re not supposed to wash it, which may be good or bad, depending on how much you like clean up. Also, you can’t cook acidic foods like tomatoes in it. They are very heavy too, but that means that they practically last forever.