That’s right, people: CARROT BACON.
And before all of you, ‘Heaven-is-paved-with-bacon’ people get your panties in a bunch, just know this isn’t meant to BE bacon, but a pretty damn tasty replacement for those who would like to eat less meat or are vegetarian.
My seventy eight-year-old Nebraska born father was recently given strict doctors orders: no more pork or red meat. I’ve been on a mission to help him succeed and to make it delicious along the way. I also wanted to avoid the typical meat-free bacon-y ingredient: liquid smoke. I simply don’t understand adding liquid carcinogen to my food, and the only time I tried (I was making coconut bacon), I threw up 20 minutes after. So, yeah. A bit of smoked salt — sure. Liquid smoke? I recommend you pass and try my approach instead.
I highly recommend piling this carrot bacon high on a sandwich with avocado and fresh tomato, or whatever your interpretation of a classic BLT might be.
3 large carrots
2 T melted coconut oil
2 T Worcestershire
2 T maple syrup
2 t hot sauce (go for a vinegary based sauce like Red Clay)
smoked or regular Maldon salt
Preheat oven to 400F°.
Place your carrot flat on a cutting board and drag a peeler from the head to the base with a good amount of pressure. This peeling process will create bacon-like ribbons.
Melt your coconut oil in a small pan. Add a splash of bourbon letting it sizzle and cook-off for 30 seconds. Remove from heat and combine with the remaining ingredients in a large mixing bowl. Toss your carrot ribbons into the mixture until they are fully coated.
Line a baking sheet with parchment paper and place your ribbons flat (it’s okay if there’s a bit of cross-over) and drizzle with smoked or regular Maldon salt. Bake on a high rack for 10-15 minutes. Remove from heat, flip the carrot bacon, and brush any remaining marinate onto the other side. Return to oven for another 10-15 or until crisped, but not burnt.
Enjoy? Find more recipes like these in my book, Aim True.
Summer is in full effect and this blaring heat calls for refreshing salads. I whipped up yesterday after scoring a bounty of ripe peaches. What’s better than straight up peaches — pickled peaches! It adds the perfect tang and acidity to a crunchy, salty, and sweet salad. Enjoy!
1 small head red lettuce, washed and torn
1 large peach, pitted and sliced
1 lime, juiced
1 red chile pepper, diced (jalapeño or fresno)
1 cup assorted grape tomatoes, sliced
1/4 cup roasted pepitas
1/4 cup grated sheep’s milk romano cheese
1 t sea salt
2 T extra virgin olive oil
2 T champagne vineager
1 T dijon mustard
1 large shallot, minced
large dash hot sauce (pick your favorite)
sea salt and fresh black pepper to taste
Place your sliced peaches and chili pepper into a bowl and cover with salt and lime juice (you can substitute vinegar if you don’t have lime). Mix well and let pickle for 5-10 minutes.
Whisk your salad dressing and set aside. Place your lettuce, tomatoes, and pepitas into a large salad bowl. Drain the excess lime juice from you chili and peaches, and add to the large bowl. Toss with salad dressing and sprinkle with cheese. Boom!
I made a new friend yesterday.
Kate and I grabbed drinks with Jamie Tworkowski, founder of the amazing organization, To Write Love on Her Arms. This soft spirit has dedicated his life to reminding others that theirs matter.
After a few hours of talk about love, heartbreak, work, and of course –basketball and sneakers — we said our goodbyes and I decided to dive into his memoir.
I climbed into bed next to my Tetris-crazed girlfriend. She made a welcoming space for me without losing a beat.
“Do you think I’ll ever actually write my third book?” I mused.
“Yes. Absolutely. Of course you will. Why?”
I strategically dodged over her chest to grab Jamie’s book without sabotaging her swift-thumbed game.
“I dunno. It sometimes just feels like I won’t.”
It feels like I won’t because it’s too much. I look at Jamie’s book title. Exactly. Because I feel too much. Or maybe I’m an imposter … do I really have a story worth sharing or the chops to even pull it off?
I sigh, kiss Kate on the cheek — she responds with a warm purr — and open up my book. A mere three pages in and I already know what I need to do.
Here’s a man completely opening his heart to the world. To write love on her arms — offering a daily dose of hope and inspiration by baring his soul, story, and words.
I immediately know: it’s time to pick up where I left off. This is my duty — when I feel brilliant, when I feel scared, even when I feel like it will never, ever make sense or matter to anyone.
My story is worth telling. I matter. We all do. ⠀
Thank you, Jamie.