A year ago, my Lovely Vegetarian Wife and I joined the late 20th century by acquiring a microwave. We had just moved across the country and were setting up our apartment, and our friends said that they had an old one which they didn’t use anymore. We accepted it, somewhat reluctantly: We had gone for most of our adult lives without having a microwave in the kitchen, and we had come to regard it as an unnecessary crutch for frantic yuppies who couldn’t be bothered to take the time to cook properly.
We have come to see that the microwave is very useful and has its place in the kitchen. Obviously, it’s great for heating up leftovers and cups of coffee. It is really the best way to make good nachos (a toaster oven gets the chips brown before the cheese melts). It defrosts things effectively. It allows you to melt butter in a glass bowl instead of using up another pot and room on the stove. It cooks sweet potatoes perfectly. However, there is one important concession that we will not make to the microwave: We will not make popcorn in the microwave. We make popcorn on the stove.
Aside from the fact that microwave popcorn contains God knows what, popcorn on the stove is easy and fun. I won’t say popping corn on the stove is as easy as boiling water, but if you can saute an onion, you can make popcorn. Simply put a heavy pot over medium heat. Add a thin layer of oil and a test kernel; cover the pot. When you hear the “Ping!” of the popcorn popping, the oil is hot enough. Add the rest of the kernels. Cover the pot and shake it over the burner. The popcorn should take off almost right away. When the popping starts to subside (or when the popcorn starts to push the lid off the pot, which is really seriously cool), dump the popcorn into the largest bowl you have. (And watch out for stray exploding kernels. I must say, this is half the fun of stovetop popcorn for me: I love food that fights back.)
At this point, you can toss the popcorn with WHATEVER YOU WANT. Seriously. Have a hankering for kettle corn? Toss some sugar on with the butter and salt. Going vegan? Use olive oil (extra virgin, of course) and a few grinds of black pepper. Like cheese? Grate some Parmigiano-Reggiano on top. Pimenton, curry powder, quatre epices, Chinese five-spice powder… if you like the flavor, it will probably taste good on popcorn.
I like buttery—really buttery—popcorn; I have fond memories of large buckets of movie theater popcorn, slathered with whatever the hell that orange stuff actually is. These days, though, I can’t quite justify the calories. So, I compromise (and unlike most compromises, this one leaves everybody happy): I swap out half of the butter for olive oil. I don’t see the point of omitting garlic from anything, and a little fresh rosemary just takes this to a whole new level.
I guess it’s time for some actual quantities here:
- 1/3 c popping corn
- 2 T butter
- 1 clove of garlic
- 1 sprig of rosemary
- 2 T olive oil, plus more for cooking the popcorn
makes enough popcorn for grazing at a small party, or for snacking on while watching Netflix Instant at 2 am
While preparing the popcorn per the directions above, place the butter in a microwave-proof bowl. (Or, if you want to swear off the microwave entirely, put the butter in a small pot over medium-low heat.) Smash and peel the garlic clove; add it to the butter. Strip the leaves (needles?) off the rosemary sprig and roughly chop them, if you want; add the rosemary to the butter as well. Microwave the butter on high for 1 minute until it’s melted; stir in the olive oil.
When the popcorn is finished, drizzle the butter-olive oil mixture over top. I toss the garlic clove in as well—it’s delicious. Sprinkle generously with salt (and a few grinds of black pepper, if you’re so inclined); toss thoroughly to combine. Bring the whole bowl (and, ideally, a steaming mug of hot chocolate) over to the couch and put on a good, mindless movie. Enjoy.



[...] Get some corn poppin’. Meanwhile, put a large skillet over medium-low heat. Chop the bacon into 1/2-inch pieces and add to the skillet. Cook slowly to render the bacon fat and crisp the bacon without burning, about 10-15 minutes. (I prefer my bacon with a little bit of chew left in it, but suit yourself.) When the bacon is ready, drain off all but a tablespoon or so of the bacon fat (you can use it for another purpose, if you like); keep the bacon pieces in the skillet. Roughly chop the rosemary leaves and add them along with the butter to the skillet. (The rosemary really ties the sweet and savory elements of this dish together. It’s magic, that rosemary.) [...]