Carol Han

I'm Carol Han, fashion editor, writer, and sometime piano player. I love food, books, clothes, and music. I hate the horse carriages in Central Park.

This is my blog.

You can email me at carroll.han@gmail.com

I can feel summer coming to a close. There’s one weekend left of carefree bliss and sun and beach surrounded by friends in a tiny town on the very tip of Long Island. After that, we’re thrust headfirst into New York Fashion Week, during which I will inevitably become a walking, talking bundle of stress wearing 5-inch heels for 15 hours/day every day. It’s a pretty rude awakening every year.
In a strange way, as much as I don’t want to let summer go, I’m ready for fall and all the changes the season will bring. The past few months have been loaded with the best times, the worst times, the longest days and the craziest nights. I’ve cried laughing with girlfriends, and just plain cried.
To that end, I’ll be the first to admit that I welcome obstacles and confrontations—I think it’s good for the soul and the last thing I want is a bland vanilla life.
But it’s been a bit much: there have been so many complications, so many fights and suspected inadequacies and heavy words unspoken, hanging in the air, left to rot in the wet August heat.
I was mulling over said complications while wandering the Union Square farmer’s market last weekend, and as I walked into each stall, chatting with the farmers and cheesemongers and butchers, and picking up odds and ends along the way, I paused to look into my shopping bags and realized that I had inadvertently bought all the ingredients (and then some) for the simplest meal of all: a BLT.
And as I tend to do, I took it as a sign: I’m ready for some clean simplicity. A cool breeze in the form of fall. Because sometimes, it’s just the little simple things you crave: A long, overdue conversation with your mom. A guy who never makes you feel anything less than perfect (even when you’re being  slightly loco and/or hormonal). A serene beach. A cotton candy sunset. The Smiths loud and on repeat.
Or, if all else fails, a really really good BLT.
Here’s how I make mine. Using sourdough bread in place of regular bread gives this classic sandwich a subtle tanginess that goes well with the other ingredients. Toasting the bread in the best olive oil you can find makes it extra special.
THE PERFECT BLT
Ingredients
2 slices of artisanal San Francisco sourdough bread, cut to about 1/2 inch thick
1 red heirloom tomato
6-7 leaves picked from a head of green butterhead lettuce
4 thick slices of good bacon
2 tablespoons olive oil
Preparation
Heat olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat. When hot to the touch, place sourdough slices in and turn to coat. Toast in the skillet for approximately 3 minutes per side, or until both sides are golden brown and crisp at the edges. Remove from skillet and place on a plate.
Place bacon slices into the same skillet and cook until crisp. Remove and place on paper towels to drain.
Thoroughly wash and dry lettuce leaves. Tear into pieces that will fit the shape of the bread.
Wash and dry tomato. Slice it into pieces about 1/8 of an inch thick.
On one slice of bread, layer the lettuce, tomato slices and bacon slices. Cover with the other slice of bread and enjoy.

I can feel summer coming to a close. There’s one weekend left of carefree bliss and sun and beach surrounded by friends in a tiny town on the very tip of Long Island. After that, we’re thrust headfirst into New York Fashion Week, during which I will inevitably become a walking, talking bundle of stress wearing 5-inch heels for 15 hours/day every day. It’s a pretty rude awakening every year.

In a strange way, as much as I don’t want to let summer go, I’m ready for fall and all the changes the season will bring. The past few months have been loaded with the best times, the worst times, the longest days and the craziest nights. I’ve cried laughing with girlfriends, and just plain cried.

To that end, I’ll be the first to admit that I welcome obstacles and confrontations—I think it’s good for the soul and the last thing I want is a bland vanilla life.

But it’s been a bit much: there have been so many complications, so many fights and suspected inadequacies and heavy words unspoken, hanging in the air, left to rot in the wet August heat.

I was mulling over said complications while wandering the Union Square farmer’s market last weekend, and as I walked into each stall, chatting with the farmers and cheesemongers and butchers, and picking up odds and ends along the way, I paused to look into my shopping bags and realized that I had inadvertently bought all the ingredients (and then some) for the simplest meal of all: a BLT.

And as I tend to do, I took it as a sign: I’m ready for some clean simplicity. A cool breeze in the form of fall. Because sometimes, it’s just the little simple things you crave: A long, overdue conversation with your mom. A guy who never makes you feel anything less than perfect (even when you’re being  slightly loco and/or hormonal). A serene beach. A cotton candy sunset. The Smiths loud and on repeat.

Or, if all else fails, a really really good BLT.

Here’s how I make mine. Using sourdough bread in place of regular bread gives this classic sandwich a subtle tanginess that goes well with the other ingredients. Toasting the bread in the best olive oil you can find makes it extra special.

THE PERFECT BLT

Ingredients

2 slices of artisanal San Francisco sourdough bread, cut to about 1/2 inch thick

1 red heirloom tomato

6-7 leaves picked from a head of green butterhead lettuce

4 thick slices of good bacon

2 tablespoons olive oil

Preparation

Heat olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat. When hot to the touch, place sourdough slices in and turn to coat. Toast in the skillet for approximately 3 minutes per side, or until both sides are golden brown and crisp at the edges. Remove from skillet and place on a plate.

Place bacon slices into the same skillet and cook until crisp. Remove and place on paper towels to drain.

Thoroughly wash and dry lettuce leaves. Tear into pieces that will fit the shape of the bread.

Wash and dry tomato. Slice it into pieces about 1/8 of an inch thick.

On one slice of bread, layer the lettuce, tomato slices and bacon slices. Cover with the other slice of bread and enjoy.

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