Like many couples, Brainiac and enjoy the occasional evening out sans offspring. Happy hour, with its drink specials and snacky bites, is a particular favorite and we are quite devoted to 25-cent wing nights. Yes, it's true - I of the homemade pickles and organic peach jam can be bought at the low, low cost of a glass of sauvignon blanc and a plate of extra-hot Buffalo wings. I'd be hard pressed to even pretend shame so let's not bother.
Anyway, our recent cocktail culture habits have given rise to a new obsession: bar snacks. In case you lead a completely upstanding life and are unaware, it's not uncommon for bars to put out little bowls of this or that nibble, a salty lagniappe designed to encourage the purchase of yet another refreshing adult beverage. Alert drinkers might notice pretzels or nuts or the like and, in the best establishments, these are not stale (I sometimes suspect the purchase of vast warehouses of, say, bagel chips and have believed on occasion that a snack dating to Ronald Reagan's first term in office is being thrust in my direction. This practice must be discouraged by taking one's custom elsewhere. Life is too short, friends.)
Even when the bar snacks are up to code, we may not be heading out as often as we'd like (see also: the new frugality), preferring to stay in and have pals in for a drink and a bite. The drinks part is easy because, honestly, people just aren't that picky no matter what they claim to the contrary but when it comes to the accompaniments, standards must be kept. The ideal bar snack should 1) be able to be prepared ahead, 2) be served without need of cutlery or, heck, even a napkin, 3) enhance the taste of a wide variety of drinksies and 4) taste great. Hitting all four points is harder than you might expect but by gosh I try.
As I type I'm roasting chick peas seasoned with cayenne, adobo, black pepper and chili powder. The smell is fantastic but early taste tests are not promising. I remain convinced that the method will work, however. Open cans, drain and dry the chick peas, spread in a sprayed, rimmed cookie sheet and roast away at 450 degrees, having sprinkled very generously with whatever flavor seems like it might work. Next try: garam masala and amchuur powder.
I've got a cocktail bug for okra, too. Sliced and dry roasted with similarly prepared hot peppers...I don't know. In my mind it's crispy and blisteringly spiced and completely absent the okra slime factor. Maybe covered in cornmeal? I don't want to mess with frying and being stuck in the kitchen, though, not when I'm supposed to be perched perkily on an ottoman listening to my friend J. hold forth about her very disastrous, painful, and hysterically funny honeymoon (it's o.k., they're still married).
One of my favorite restaurants here nearby the homestead pretty much serves only meat. I know, its insane. Great, though, and I refuse to bend my mind toward even possibly thinking otherwise. This place serves bacon as an appetizer, and it is awesome - thick cut and slow roasted and just as full of umami as you could want. Another restaurant I enjoy sells house-cut bacon cured to order and I might see my way clear to trying to replicate such a snack at home. I've seen variations of brown-sugar bacon or bacon wrapped around whatnot but I think when it's all said and done, the sugar and the whatnots (scallops, artichoke hearts, water chestnuts) are really just excuses to eat bacon and wherever possible I advocate for the elimination of excuses. This, I feel, has promise as a drinks go-along.
Finally, I've also been messing around with papdum, which have the great advantage of being very quick to prepare even though you must fry them. They're so fast that you can cook up an enormous tower of papdum - I like the black pepper and chili varieties - and still have time wipe the counter and change your shirt before the doorbell rings. They stay crispy and are as whispy as angel's breath even has they pack a huge flavorful punch. You can serve them with chutneys but it's not necessary.
None of these snacks costs much - less than a dollar per snacker for very generous portions - or requires much in the way of effort, but all add so much to the experience of sitting and enjoying a laugh with good pals. At the very least you will have spared your friends yet another bowl of chips and salsa. Or, goodness forbid, Reagan-era bagel chips.