Glazed Bacon

Not many people know this, but

one of my very first "big girl jobs" was as the Executive Chef of a charming little Inn called “The Inn at Occidental” which is tucked away in the Western County of Sonoma. Now, if I’m being completely honest, the title of “Executive Chef” may have been a bit of a technicality — there was no one else below me in the kitchen hierarchy — but hey, details, right? Titles aside, it was a role that would leave an indelible mark on my culinary journey.

On my first day, the inn’s owner, Tina, handed me a small, weathered box filled with well-loved index cards, each one a handwritten recipe from the Inn’s collection. Every morning, we served a full breakfast to our guests. In the afternoons, we laid out wine, cheese, and appetizers, and in the evenings, a sweet treat awaited guests returning from their day’s adventures.

As I thumbed through the stack of recipe cards like a deck of playing cards, Tina’s eye caught one in particular. With a shrug and a casual smile, she said, “That one’s second only to our granola as our most popular recipe. Oddly enough, no one knows where it came from.” Then she walked away, leaving me holding the mysterious card. I glanced down, expecting something groundbreaking — perhaps an exotic dish or a sophisticated pastry.

It was a recipe for glazed bacon.

I remember thinking, Glazed bacon? Really? I’d had glazed bacon plenty of times before, so I couldn’t understand what made this version so special. THe ingredients looked unassuming, but it was a recipe unlike most I had seen before. Curiosity got the better of me, and I decided to make it that morning for our three dozen sleepy guests.

As it baked, the smell that filled the kitchen was otherworldly — sweet, smoky, and just a little bit tangy. It wasn't long before Carol, our teenage server, started popping into the kitchen. The first time, she asked, “A guest wants to know what that smell is.” Minutes later, she was back. “Another guest is asking for the recipe.” Then another. And another. Carol came in so many times that I lost count. By the end of breakfast service, it was clear: this bacon wasn’t just bacon. It was magic.

It’s been nearly 20 years since I pulled that first batch of glazed bacon from the Inn’s oven, and it’s still a staple in our home after all these years. Reserved for birthdays, holidays (I see you Christmas morning), and lazy Sundays, it’s become more than just a recipe for me— it’s a reminder. A reminder that sometimes, it’s the simplest things that leave the biggest impact. A reminder that humble beginnings can lead to cherished traditions. And a reminder that, no matter how many new recipes I try, the smell of this glazed bacon still takes me back to that little kitchen at The Inn at Occidental, where I first learned that even the most unassuming dishes can be absolutely unforgettable.