Here’s what people who grew up in a house with bacon don’t understand: bacon=independence. At least for me. When you’re a kid, or at least someone who lives in their parents’ house, you have a relative amount of freedom. You can order bacon cheeseburgers at restaurants. You can eat bacon at your friends’ houses. You can try (and occasionally fail) to order it from your local food-cart man. But the one thing you can’t do if your parents are like mine is bring bacon into the house. Although it was not for lack of trying. My brothers have frequently attempted to sneak a package of bacon into the house, but it invariably ended with a sternly-worded speech from my mother on the affects of le pig lard on l’arteries. Or something to that affect.
So when I moved into my apartment, the first thing I did was buy a frying pan and head to the Reading Terminal to pick up half a pound of bacon. (By the way, if you’re hankering for some good-eatin bacon, my friend Albert highly recommends the double-smoked from the Fair Food Farmstand.) My bacon exuberance prompted folks to send me a fair number of bacon-centered foods, all of which I feel led to share with you, dear readers. Think of it as your late Christmas present. Or if you’re one of my baby cousins who keeps trying to eat the puppy’s faux bacon, think of it as Christmas Future. (There’s hope, kids. Please put down the dog food.)
