Bacon Beckons

Is there anything better than bacon? Probably. But I can’t think of anything at the moment. Most people who know me know I have a slight obsession with this less-than-heart-friendly food. I’ve gone entire months eating bacon, on average, once a day, but because of caloric and cholesterol concerns I feel I should have as a “responsible adult” I now try and limit my intake to fewer than three times per week. I mean, one can not live on bacon alone in this day and age… But it would be fun to try. My affinity for this particular pork product rests mainly on its versatile nature. I worship its salty crunch with eggs, adore it in salads, and pine for it on sandwiches… It’s good in dips, in side dishes and even wrapped around other meat! How fantastic is that?! Bacon is not a pretentious protein; it’s there when you need it, at the ready, to add that perfect something to any dish. It’s no-frills, it’s flexible, earnest, down-to-earth and versatile—I would argue, my friends, that my relationship with bacon stems from a deeper philosophical identification with some very fundamental qualities I desire to have myself … But that might be taking it a little too far.

Let’s just say that “hold the bacon” is basically blasphemy in my book. There is a lunch place I lovingly refer to as “the club,” simply because I frequent it and they know me there, where there is a sandwich that consists of fresh turkey, tomato, cheddar and jack cheese, bacon, and avocado all grilled on buttered sourdough. I ordered it the other day and was in utter dismay over the fact that the chef (read: line cook) had mistakenly omitted the bacon. Not a complainer in restaurants (hi, please don’t spit in my food,) I was tortured over whether or not to ask for a new sandwich; frankly, without the bacon, it might as well have been a rice cake… with cheese and avocado on it…

It had me thinking… In a world full of crazy—where half the time I’m not sure if I’m the one who’s missed out on some sort of memo about acceptable levels of crazy—have I perhaps formed an unhealthy emotional attachment to bacon? I’ve decided the answer is no. After all, there are bacon of the month clubs that people pay to join—so clearly I am not the only one who loves the stuff. And it’s no secret that chocolate has the majority of women and even some men so enamored that it’s practically an addiction… So emotional attachment to food and subsequent cravings are not unheard of… And, since I don’t subscribe the national chocolate obsession, I decided it’s OK for me to love bacon at the extreme level to which I do. I really, truly (heart) it. I just hope that my heart can take it.