A few years ago, R.W. Apple reported in the New York Times about Nueske’s bacon, from Wisconsin. The article is long relegated to the Times Select ghetto, but here’s a tidbit:

> I don’t want to go whole hog here, but Nueske’s struck me as the beluga of bacon, the Rolls-Royce of rashers. It makes a memorable B.L.T., one of the supreme inventions of American short-order cookery, and its crunchiness provides an ideal counterpoint to the richness of calf’s liver or shad roe. It was invented, or might have been, for breakfast bacon and eggs, which my wife, Betsey, allows me (and herself) a morning or two a month.

I was sold. I went to the [Nueske web site](http://www.nuekse.com) and ordered two pounds of bacon. With shipping, this was almost $30. Apple was right, of course–it was the best bacon I’ve ever had, even though it’s astonishingly smoky.

Laurie and I ate a few slices ourselves, and then we had some out-of-town friends staying with us and served the rest of the Nueske’s with biscuits for breakfast. “Like this bacon?” I asked. “We bought it on the Internet!”

I get the “you are not normal” look from people all the time, but that one had unusual intensity.

We got the Nueske’s catalog for years after that, but we couldn’t bring ourselves to pay $30 for two pounds of bacon again. The only other time we tasted Nueske’s between about 2000 and 2003 was when we were in New York and had lunch at Artisanal restaurant, where Laurie ordered the grilled cheese sandwich. It’s made with Balthazar bread, Montgomery cheddar, granny smith apples, and strips of Nueske’s. If you’re in New York, please go have one of these now so I can eat it vicariously.

Other than that, we reminisced about the flavor of Nueske’s, which, to be honest, is smoky enough to linger on the palate for months. I would often declare that if they sold Nueske’s in Seattle, it would become our house bacon, and I would allow myself to eat it a lot more than a morning or two a month.

Flash forward to today. Larry’s Market in Queen Anne, a ten minute bus ride from my house, has been selling Nueske’s for over two years. I think I’ve bought it three times.

It turns out my relationship with Nueske’s is like Seth and Summer’s relationship on The OC. It’s two versions of the classic tale of gawky-and-Jewish seeks fleshy-and-delicious. Part of the thrill of Nueske’s was its unattainability. When I stood up on that coffee cart and declared my undying love for Nueske’s porky goodness, I didn’t realize I was actually going to get it.

Still, like Rachel Bilson, Nueske’s is just as good and smoky as ever. Last week Larry’s had a great sale on Parmigiano-Reggiono ($9/lb for well-cut chunks), and while I was standing at the checkout with my hunk of cheese, I realized, “Hey, Nueske’s.” So I went and grabbed some, and we had it for breakfast yesterday. It was Iris’s first Nueske experience, and she loved it. Next week I’ll probably go back to some cheap and tawdry bacon, but the memory of Nueske’s will smolder in my heart forever.

Would I have missed the new show Top Chef? I would not.

Despite obviously coming from the same factory that stamps out every other reality show, Top Chef rules. The premise, which you could probably figure out yourself just from the title of the show, is that they assemble a bunch of chefs and chef-wannabes and put them through various trials by fire. The hosts are Tom Colicchio of NYC’s Craft restaurant, and a couple of attractive women, one of whom is a food writer and the other Billy Joel’s wife, but they look like twins, so I have no idea which is which.

As on any of these shows, there was a villain, in the form of Ken Lee, from Dublin, who got himself ejected from the first challenge for tasting sauces with his finger. Unfortunately, he was the one sent home at the end of the show. This is nuts. It would be like killing off Alan Rickman at the beginning of _Die Hard_. At least they kept Andrea, the health-food chef, whose “signature dish” was a pile of vegetables, including steamed kale. There is no such thing as steamed kale, any more than there’s such a thing as raw pasta salad.

My personal favorite is Lee Anne Wong, who is poised to kick ass. And this is even before I learned from the web site that “her passion is pork, and she can do anything with a pig.” I’m not sure I would have said it that way, but I admire the sentiment.

Anyway, this is not just a TV review. I’m here to offer you a clever idea for your next dinner party. The idea came to me when I was watching the lovably foulmouthed Cynthia, who at one point said, “Who stole my fucking pomegranate?” This is not something you’ll hear on any other show. Later, when it came time to present her signature dish, she said, “It’s not finished. Someone stole my pomegranate, or I lost my pomegranate, or something.”

So here’s what you do, in honor of Cynthia. Invite some friends over for dinner. When you serve the food, explain that it would be much better, but *someone* stole your white truffles, your foie gras, and your fennel pollen. As you say this, look around accusingly. This should make your party much more exciting, and if the food’s no good, your friends will blame each other instead of you.

I bounced this idea off some people, and my friend Lucian said, “I’d be happy to come over and steal some stuff from your fridge if it would help.”

The first episode of Top Chef is available free on iTunes.

I love how when I walk into the front door of the Olympic Hotel on my way to the [bun bakery](http://www.belleepicurean.com/), nobody gives me a funny look. In Seattle, there are plenty of people who look just like me but can afford to stay at that hotel.

We have a few Tupperware items in the house, but my favorite by far is the Spoonz spoon rest. (I didn’t realize it was called Spoonz until I asked Laurie’s sister, who sold it to us.) A lot of spoon rests seem to be made out of delicate things like ceramic. I’ve had a couple of those, and they were pulverized within days by heavy cauldrons and the like.

The Spoonz, on the other hand, is made out of indestructible hard plastic, it has space for two spoons, and is dishwasher-safe and also easy to clean by hand. It’s the last word in spoon rests.

The problem is, Tupperware doesn’t sell it anymore. Why would they discontinue their best product? Is Kitchenaid going to stop making mixers in order to concentrate on can openers? Perhaps the Spoonz never sold because it was ahead of its time, and only savvy early adopters bought one.

I cannot explain the decisions of our corporate overlords at Tupperware, but I can tell you there are a few Spoonz on eBay for less than five bucks. The caveat (other than the usual eBay caveats) is that there are two different models of Tupperware spoon rest, and eBay sellers don’t really distinguish them, so you have to look at the picture. This is the Spoonz:

This is not:

The Spoonz comes in several fetching colors, from basic black to harvest gold. And yes, I totally stole those pictures off eBay.

Click for a larger view: