Orange-Glazed Bacon

I made taco soup on Monday and froze five bags of it, because taco soup is the patron saint of Larson dinners and I will not apologize for the repetition. The week was a spring week, the kind where the light through the kitchen window arrives at a particular angle and the freezer hums in a different register depending on the temperature in the garage. I made notes in my prep notebook on Sunday afternoon, the way I always do: meal name, ingredient list, cost per serving, prep time, freezer instructions. Twenty-eight bags. Two hours and eleven minutes. A little slow this week, by my standards, but Brandon was helping and the conversation was good, and I have learned, slowly and against my own grain, that the conversation is sometimes the point and the time is sometimes a courtesy I extend to my husband for being willing to chop onions on a Sunday afternoon.

Brandon golfed Saturday morning, attended his executive secretary meeting Sunday morning, and did the dishes Wednesday night, which is the rhythm of our life now. We have been married a long time. The arithmetic of it is the arithmetic of my whole life. There were years we missed each other in the same room, and there are years we find each other in the silences, and this is one of the latter, and I am old enough now to know that the latter is the achievement and the former was the cost.

The recipe of the week was foil pack potatoes, which I have made some specific number of times in my life and have refined to a system that I now hand to other people in printed form. The version I made this week fed eight, cost under fifteen dollars, and required twenty-six minutes of active prep, which is within my requirements and not a coincidence. Sunday prep is twenty-eight bags. I time myself. The accountant never leaves. I have stopped explaining the freezer-meal philosophy to people who already follow my work, and I have stopped apologizing for it to people who do not. The philosophy is simple: tomorrow is coming whether you are ready or not. You can either be ready or not. I pick ready.

The children are doing what they do, which is the central report of every week of my adult life. Ethan is 20, in Manila on his mission, and his last email mentioned a chicken adobo so good he is going to make me make it when he comes home. Olivia is 18, at BYU studying elementary education — the path she chose at age seven and has not deviated from once. Mason is 16, finishing high school, with calluses on his hands and a plan that does not yet have words. Lily is 14, in high school, asking the kind of questions in Sunday School that make the teachers uncomfortable, which I find difficult and also, secretly, admirable. Noah is 11, the comedian, the performer — the kid who does an impression of my disappointed face in front of company, and gets away with it. That is the family report. I do not have a system for these reports. I just listen and remember and call back when I said I would call back, which is most of the time and not all of the time, and the difference between most and all is the territory of motherhood.

I will close the laptop in a moment. I will go to bed. I will get up tomorrow. The freezer will be there. The photograph will be there. The work will be there. So will I.

The foil pack potatoes fed eight people and cost under fifteen dollars, and that is the kind of win I write down in my prep notebook and do not take for granted — but Sunday mornings before the prep starts, before the notebook comes out and the bags get labeled, there is usually something small and good happening on the grill outside. This is that recipe. Brandon will man the grill without being asked, which is one of the small mercies of a long marriage, and Orange-Glazed Bacon is worth the ten minutes it takes because it is the kind of thing that makes a Sunday morning feel like a reward instead of a runway.

Prep Time: 5 min | Cook Time: 12 min | Total Time: 17 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

12 thick-cut bacon strips
1/4 cup orange marmalade
1 tablespoon brown sugar, packed
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes (optional)
1/2 teaspoon fresh orange zest

Instructions

Preheat the grill. Heat an outdoor grill or grill pan to medium heat (about 375°F). Lightly oil the grates or use a grill-safe wire rack set over the grates to keep bacon strips flat.
Make the glaze. In a small saucepan over low heat, stir together the orange marmalade, brown sugar, Dijon mustard, red pepper flakes (if using), and orange zest. Heat for 2–3 minutes until the sugar dissolves and the glaze loosens. Remove from heat.
Grill the bacon. Lay bacon strips on the grill in a single layer. Cook for 4–5 minutes per side, watching carefully for flare-ups from dripping fat. Flip once halfway through.
Apply the glaze. During the last 2 minutes of cooking, brush the orange glaze generously over each strip. Allow it to caramelize slightly before removing from the grill. Do not walk away — the sugar in the glaze can burn quickly.
Rest and serve. Transfer glazed bacon to a wire rack or paper-towel-lined plate. Let rest 2 minutes before serving. The glaze will set as it cools.

Nutrition (per serving)

Orange-Glazed Bacon — The Small Reward at the End of a Sunday Well Spent