Picture an old man. The old man is reclining in an easy chair by a fire, his warm living room surrounding him with pictures and knick knacks, each one a good memory, an old friend. His trusty dog Skip is curled up on the throw rug lazily wagging his tail, his gray whiskers twitching as he snores by the firelight. The old man looks around at the teary eyed faces of his three children, six grandchildren and twelve great-grandchildren, all gathered around him. They pat his hand and try to huddle close, so that they can share in his company for just a little bit longer. One grandson, in a low voice, says, "Grandpa, what's the best thing that ever happened to you?"
He carefully studies each of their faces, fondly remembering each of their births, each of their weddings, graduations and school plays. He muses about the Christmases they all spent together and the times they celebrated their victories and shored each other up in their challenges. After a long, pregnant pause, he looks his grandson square in the eye and says....
Bacon Jam is the Shangrli La of condiments. Bacon Jam saves babies from falling in wells. Bacon Jam can bring peace to the Middle East. Bacon Jam could make it okay for white comediens to do impressions of black people. Bacon Jam can sit on a stool in an empty room with a spotlight on it and call itself "performance art," and it would actually be good art. Bacon Jam should run for office. I'm thinking County Commision. Even pigs like Bacon Jam. Bacon Jam makes even my pork tacos taste good. Bacon Jam can punch through a stack of flaming bricks. Bacon Jam breaks hearts....literally. Bacon Jam makes perfection look like it has a lot of room for improvement. Bacon Jam can get Mark Antony and J-Lo back together. Bacon Jam can right wrongs and sing songs. Bacon Jam could win any rap battle, and without using bad language or talking about anyone's mother. Bacon Jam is the Steven Segal of food products. Bacon Jam. It's what you eat when you're in heaven.
Okay. I apologize for that.
Bacon Jam is exactly what it sounds like. It is a sticky, melty, slightly sweet, slightly crunchy, spread made from reduced, rendered bacon and a bunch of spices. It was apparently a product sold by a street food truck called Skillet Street Food, and then it was on food network, and now everyone writes about it (try and find that old man bit on another site...you won't), and I had to try it. It just sounded too good to be true.
Of the recipes I read, mine is the closest to the one on an Australian lady's blog called Not Quite Nigella. It can be found at http://www.notquitenigella.com/2009/10/08/bacon-jam-your-wildest-dreams-come-true/.
I busted out the porcelain covered cast iron Dutch Oven (hee hee) that Preggy Potter got me for our anniversary, and I went to town....
Here is the Mother of My Children chopping bacon. I might cry, this image makes me so happy....
Next, I stirred the pot around every thirty minutes for two hours, adding water when it got a little dry.