My relationship with bacon started when I was fourteen. My sister and I spent the weekend with my Grandmother (my Father’s Mother) and we woke up to the smell of something wonderful coming from the kitchen—Grandma Eve had just pan fried a batch of crispy bacon.
Growing up we NEVER had bacon in the house—not once; my Father couldn’t stand the smell. So I never tried it, thinking it was foul or taboo or just something I would probably not like. Oh how wrong I was! I couldn’t get over the umami taste or the crispy bite or the allover addictive nature of the strips as I crunched my third slice. I was absolutely in love.
Before my Mom gave up eating red meat, her diner go-to was an open-faced English muffin, toasted, with melted American cheese and two strips of bacon on top. She actually turned me onto the fabulous idea of adding bacon to a sandwich, instead of just having it as a breakfast side dish. I know, I was a slow learner, but what a concept—to add bacon!
Fast forward thirty plus years…my son Matty is an absolute bacon lover. That food was never taboo in our house as he grew up. He even frequented the restaurant BarBacon for a flight of bacon. (Yes, there is such a thing). Matty likes a tuna melt with bacon, a peppered bacon burger with a sunny egg, and a loaded baked potato omelet (my creation) with bits of potato, shredded cheddar and lots of salty bacon shards folded right in.
COOKING TIP: I prefer to make my bacon in the oven, with strips laid carefully across a baking rack hovering above a disposable aluminum lasagna tin. I get the oven screaming hot at 400 degrees and ensure the thick slices cook through, while staying flat and not curling up. Fifteen minutes usually does the trick. Plus I can save some of the fat if I want post cooking, but if I’m all stocked up, I love the easy clean-up of tossing the single use pan.
Bacon figured so much into my life that when I was single, I thought it was important to include this foodie obsession in my online profile. So I peppered in the fact that I was a “Bat Mitzvah’d bacon lover.” That descriptor was a big hit. Apparently a lot of men like the concept of a rebellious believer.
I’m a Bat Mitzvah’d
Bacon Lover
My significant other Michael is a major bacon lover. He’s actually an overall swine enthusiast, a quality I find sometimes troubling, as I don’t favor the whole food group of the “other other white meat” (I’m sticking with bacon, thankyouverymuch), but I try to respect our differences. Unlike my Dad, I’ll allow the salty protein in my house, but I’m happy to pass on the piggy’s less popular parts when Michael is cooking. My relationship with bacon pre-dates Michael, but he’s confident enough not to worry about my long-standing affection.
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