It happened this way, in chronological order:
Last week, we were planning a get-together dinner with Speedy’s brother, Buddy, and his best gal, Laura. We agreed it would be last Saturday, from afternoon to whenever we all feel we need to go to sleep. That’s dinner with them, in segments: there’s pre-dinner, dinner proper, post-dinner and drinks before and after each segment.
After the plans were ironed out, Speedy shared a photo of bacon roses on his Facebook wall. I drooled. Laura drooled. I searched Google for instructions on how to make bacon roses and found what I needed. Since our get-togethers are potluck affairs, I asked Laura to bring the bacon.
Saturday came. We had drinks. We had chicken pot pie for dinner. We watched movies. We had drinks. We chatted. We had drinks. We chatted some more. Toward midnight, we were hungry again. Time for the bacon.
The bacon roses are easy enough to make. Roll up each bacon rasher, place in a hole of a mini-muffin pan, bake in a slow oven (about 300F) until browned and crisp. The instructions I found said to pierce the bottom of the muffin pans to allow the bacon fat to drip off. No, no, no. Not me. I don’t intend to buy new muffin pans every time I make bacon roses. No piercing. I just baked them in the mini-muffin pans and that was that.
But how to serve them? Whoever first thought of the magnificent idea of making roses with bacon served the rolled tasty morsels as a bouquet. He got a bunch of those silk roses with plastic stems, pulled out the flowers and replaced them with rolled bacon.
Well, I had no intention of spending extra on silk flowers that would go straight to the trash after I’ve taken photos and the bacon roses have been eaten. So, I thought I’d use bamboo skewers for the stems then take bunches of herbs or vegetables to make a bouquet. But it was around midnight already when the bacon went into the oven. And I wasn’t about to go into the garden at that hour to pick greens. No way. Midnight creatures crawl at that unholy hour in the suburb and toads are the least scary of all. So, no, I wasn’t going to risk meeting a gecko or two.
Then, Laura came to the rescue. She said we’d serve the bacon roses on a bed of salad. Perfect! Just perfect. Laura and Buddy prepared the salad using the pesto-style dressing I had made earlier, and we feasted.
And that’s the story of our bacon roses on a bed of green salad for our post-Valentine’s Day dinner.