Sizzlin’ Secrets: How to Cook Benton’s Bacon Like a Pro

Hey there, bacon lovers! If you ain’t heard of Benton’s bacon yet, lemme tell ya, you’re in for a treat that’ll knock your socks off. This ain’t your average supermarket strip—this is smoky, salty, artisanal goodness straight outta Tennessee, crafted with old-school methods that make every bite a flavor punch that smacks ya. I stumbled upon this gem a while back at a friend’s cookout, and man, I’ve been hooked ever since. Today, I’m spillin’ all my secrets on how to cook Benton’s bacon so you get that perfect sizzle without turnin’ it into a salty brick. Grab a skillet, folks, ‘cause we’re divin’ deep into the art of cookin’ this bad boy.

What Makes Benton’s Bacon So Dang Special?

Before we get to the cookin’, let’s chat about why Benton’s bacon stands out in a world full of floppy watery strips. This stuff is cured the old-fashioned way, with heaps of salt a touch of brown sugar, and some serious smokin’ time—think weeks, not hours. The result? A bacon that’s got a deep, porky taste with a smoky kick that lingers like a good whiskey. It’s drier than most, packed with flavor, and got a texture that’s just right when you don’t mess it up.

Now, fair warnin’—this bacon ain’t for the faint of heart. If you’re not into bold smoke or a salty bite, it might not be your jam But if you’re lookin’ to elevate your breakfast game or add a gourmet twist to a dish, Benton’s is where it’s at. I’ve seen folks use it in everything from fancy salads to wrapped-around game birds, and trust me, it’s a game-changer So, how do we cook this beast without losin’ its magic? Let’s break it down.

The Golden Rule: Don’t Rush the Sizzle

Here’s the deal—Benton’s bacon don’t play nice with quick-and-dirty cookin’ You gotta take your time, or you’ll end up with somethin’ too salty to chew. The fat in this bacon is pure gold, earthy and savory, but it needs to render slow to keep the texture just right. Overcook it, and you’re stuck with a crunchy, salty mess that’ll have ya chuggin’ water I’ve burned a batch or two in my day, and lemme tell ya, it’s a sad sight. So, whether you’re usin’ an oven or a skillet, low and slow is the name of the game.

I’m gonna walk ya through two killer methods to cook Benton’s bacon—oven bakin’ for hands-off ease, and skillet fryin’ for that hands-on control. Both work like a charm if you follow the steps, and I’ll throw in some personal flops and fixes so you don’t make the same mistakes I did.

Method 1: Oven-Baked Benton’s Bacon for Easy Peasy Cookin’

If you’re like me and sometimes forget stuff on the stove (guilty as charged), bakin’ your bacon in the oven is a lifesaver. It’s pretty much foolproof, gives ya even cookin’, and lets you handle a big batch without babysittin’ it too much. Here’s how I do it:

• Preheat that oven, y’all. Set it to 350°F. Don’t go hotter thinkin’ you’ll save time—Benton’s don’t like that. I tried crankin’ it to 400°F once for a quicker cook, and it got too crispy too fast. Stick to 350, trust me.
• Line up a sheet pan. Grab a bakin’ sheet and line it with foil, then slap some parchment paper on top if ya got it. This keeps cleanup a breeze and stops the bacon from stickin’. No foil? Just grease the pan a bit, but don’t say I didn’t warn ya ‘bout scrubbin’ later.
• Lay out the strips. Place your Benton’s bacon strips in a single layer, makin’ sure they don’t overlap too much. If they touch a little, no biggie—just don’t pile ‘em up. I usually fit about a pound on one tray.
• Slide it in and set a timer. Pop the tray in the oven and let it cook for 14 to 16 minutes. Here’s the trick—start checkin’ at the 12-minute mark. Benton’s cooks a tad faster than regular bacon sometimes, and you don’t want it past that “just bendy” stage. I forgot to check once, left it for 18 minutes, and ended up with salty cardboard. Lesson learned.
• Take it out early-ish. Remember, this bacon keeps cookin’ a bit even after you pull it out. Look for strips that bend without snappin’—that’s the sweet spot. If it’s already crisp in the oven, you’ve gone too far.
• Drain the grease. Lay the strips on a plate with paper towels to soak up that extra fat. Save the grease if you’re feelin’ fancy—it’s amazin’ for cookin’ eggs or wiltin’ greens.

This method’s my go-to when I’m makin’ bacon for a crowd. Last weekend, I whipped up a batch for brunch, and everyone was ravin’ ‘bout the smoky vibes. Just don’t wander off too long—set that timer, or you’ll be cryin’ over burnt bacon like I did that one time.

Method 2: Skillet-Fryin’ Benton’s Bacon for Total Control

Now, if you’re a hands-on kinda cook like I sometimes am, fryin’ Benton’s bacon in a skillet gives ya the reins to get it just right. This way takes more attention, but man, the results are worth it. The fat renders nice and slow, and you can tweak it as ya go. Here’s the lowdown:

• Start with a cold pan. Grab a big ol’ cast iron skillet if ya got one—nothin’ beats it for even heat. Lay out your bacon strips in two layers, kinda crisscrossed like a pie lattice but without the fancy over-under weave. Startin’ cold lets the fat melt gradual-like. I skipped this step once, heated the pan first, and ended up with uneven cookin’. Don’t do that.
• Set the heat to medium-low. Turn on the burner and keep it chill. High heat is the enemy here—it’ll burn the edges before the fat even thinks about renderin’. I’m talkin’ a gentle sizzle, not a wild poppin’ party.
• Flip and fold as it cooks. As the fat starts to melt, use a fork or tongs to swap the bottom strips to the top and vice versa. Keep doin’ this every few minutes so every piece gets equal love. You can’t walk away—stand there and babysit it. I got distracted by my phone once, came back to half-charred bacon. Big oof.
• Watch for the bend. Like with the oven, pull it off the heat when it’s just barely done—still flexible, not crispy. It’ll firm up a smidge after you take it out. If you wait for full crunch, it’s gonna be a salt bomb. Learned that the hard way, folks.
• Drain and save the gold. Move the strips to a paper towel-lined plate to blot the grease. That leftover fat in the pan? Don’t toss it. Spoon it into a jar for cookin’ up some killer veggies or potatoes later.

I love this method when I’m feelin’ like a kitchen wizard and wanna nail that perfect texture. It’s a bit of a dance, flippin’ and foldin’, but when you bite into that smoky, tender strip, you’ll be glad ya put in the effort.

Why Benton’s Bacon Needs Extra Lovin’ When Cookin’

You might be wonderin’, “Why all this fuss? Ain’t bacon just bacon?” Nah, not with Benton’s. This stuff is drier and smokier than your run-of-the-mill kind ‘cause of how it’s made. Most bacon out there gets a quick wet cure and hits the shelf in a day or two. Benton’s? It hangs out curin’ for weeks, gettin’ that deep flavor, then smokes for days. That process means it don’t got as much water, so it cooks different and can turn salty as heck if ya overdo it.

I remember the first time I cooked it, I treated it like regular bacon—cranked the heat, walked away, came back to a disaster. It was like eatin’ a salt lick with a side of regret. That’s when I figured out ya gotta respect its vibe. Keep the heat down, watch it close, and don’t push for that shatter-crisp texture unless you’re ready for a flavor overload.

Tips to Avoid Screwin’ Up Your Benton’s Bacon

I’ve made plenty of mistakes with this bacon, so lemme save ya some heartache with a few pro tips I’ve picked up:

• Don’t crank the heat. I said it before, I’ll say it again—high heat is a no-go. It burns the edges and leaves the middle chewy. Stick to medium-low or 350°F in the oven.
• Check it early and often. Start peekin’ a couple minutes before the timer’s up. Every batch cooks a tad different dependin’ on thickness and your stove. I’ve had some strips done at 12 minutes, others need the full 16.
• Don’t pile too much in the pan. If you overcrowd, it steams instead of fries, and you get soggy sadness. Cook in batches if ya gotta. I learned this after tryin’ to rush a big breakfast.
• Save that grease, yo. The fat from Benton’s is liquid gold. Use it for fryin’ eggs, sautéin’ spinach, or even makin’ a roux. I’ve tossed it in with beans, and it’s straight-up magic.
• Don’t salt nothin’ else. This bacon’s salty enough on its own. If you’re addin’ it to a dish, skip any extra seasonin’ ‘til ya taste it. I ruined a salad once by oversaltin’—don’t be me.

What to Make with Your Perfectly Cooked Benton’s Bacon

Now that ya got this bacon cooked to perfection, whatcha gonna do with it? Sure, you can slap it on a plate with eggs, but its bold flavor begs for somethin’ more. Here’s a few ideas I’ve played with that’ll make your taste buds sing:

• Fancy BLT Sammies. Toast some good bread, smear on mayo, stack lettuce, tomato, and a couple strips of Benton’s. The smokiness cuts through the fresh veggies like a dream. I’ve made these for picnics, and folks lose their minds.
• Wrap it ‘round stuff. I’ve wrapped it around quail, chicken bites, even dates stuffed with cheese, then grilled ‘em. The bacon adds this unreal smoky crust. Just don’t overcook the wrap—keep an eye on it.
• Salad Superstar. Crumble some over a spinach or arugula salad. The fat pairs with a tangy dressin’ so good, you’ll forget you’re eatin’ greens. I’ve tossed the grease in too for extra oomph.
• Burger Booster. Mix ground beef with chopped Benton’s bacon for a patty that’s next-level juicy and smoky. I had one like this at a diner once, and I’ve been recreatin’ it ever since. Top with an egg if ya feelin’ wild.
• Breakfast Bowls. Layer it with grits, a runny egg, and some greens. The bacon’s deep flavor ties it all together. I whip this up on lazy Sundays, and it’s pure comfort.

This bacon ain’t just food—it’s an experience. Play around with it, see what vibes with ya. I’ve even seen folks pair it with sweet dessert wines as a funky appetizer. Whatever ya do, let that smoky, porky goodness shine.

Common Hiccups and How to Fix ‘Em

Even with the best plans, stuff goes sideways sometimes. Here’s a quick troubleshoot guide based on my own kitchen blunders:

• Too salty? If it tastes like ya licked the ocean, ya probably overcooked it. Next time, pull it off sooner. For now, pair it with somethin’ bland like potatoes to balance it out. I’ve saved a batch by choppin’ it into bland soup.
• Too chewy? Might’ve undercooked or used too high heat so the fat didn’t render. Pop it back in the pan on low for a minute or two, watchin’ close. I’ve rescued chewy strips this way more times than I can count.
• Burnt edges? Heat was too high, or ya left it too long. Trim off the black bits if ya can, and lower the temp next round. I’ve cried over burnt bacon, but trimmin’ saved the day.
• Too much grease? If it’s swimmin’ in fat, ya didn’t drain it proper. Blot with more paper towels, and use a rack in the oven next time to lift it above the drippin’s. I figured this out after a greasy mess of a brunch.

Mistakes happen, y’all. Don’t sweat it—just tweak and try again. Benton’s bacon is worth the learnin’ curve.

Pairin’ Benton’s Bacon with Other Eats

Since this bacon got such a strong personality, pairin’ it right can make or break a dish. I’ve experimented a bunch, and here’s what works best in my book:

I’ve found that keepin’ the rest of the plate simple lets Benton’s steal the show. Don’t overcomplicate—let that smoky vibe do the talkin’.

Why I’m Obsessed with Benton’s Bacon (And You Will Be Too)

Look, I’ve cooked all kinda bacon in my day—thick-cut, applewood, cheap stuff from the corner store. But Benton’s? It’s in a league of its own. There’s somethin’ ‘bout that deep, smoky chew and the way the fat just melts that keeps me comin’ back. It’s like every strip tells a story of slow craft and care, and I’m here for it.

I remember one rainy mornin’, I cooked up a batch real slow in my skillet while the coffee brewed. The smell filled the house, and by the time I sat down with a plate of bacon and eggs, it felt like a hug in food form. That’s the kinda magic this bacon brings. It ain’t just breakfast—it’s a moment.

If ya ain’t tried cookin’ Benton’s bacon yet, do yourself a favor and get some. Start with the oven method if you’re nervous, or dive into the skillet if ya feelin’ bold. Either way, take it slow, watch it close, and savor every dang bite. I’ve shared all my tricks, flops, and fave ways to eat it, so you’re set to sizzle like a pro.

Drop a comment if ya got your own Benton’s stories or recipes—I’m always down to swap kitchen tales. Now, go fire up that stove and make some smoky memories!