A few weeks ago, extracrispy.com had an opening for a Bacon Critic, someone to freelance and write about bacon on a daily basis.  Well, hell, who wouldn’t want that job!  Sadly, it appears I didn’t get it.  So I thought I’d share with you, what I shared with them.

Bacon in the morning, bacon in the evening, bacon at suppertime…that’s what my life has become. Each meal is punctuated by bacon in some form. Pure in the morning, crumbled at lunch, wrapped at dinner, to complete the meal, bacon is probably involved. You see, I live with two men, my husband and a man-bear-child who works for us. My role is the feeder, the maker of meals, the one to provide sustenance. If not for me, meals would be delivered in sacks and boxes.
Because I’m so good at making the meals, they defer to me on choosing locations when we go out. There is a cozy little place in the little tourist town of Moab, Utah that I always try to get to. It’s a place we have to hide from our friends because they vocally don’t support our recreational choices, but the bacon is so good, we sneak in anyway. Our Jeep gets parked down the street and around the corner to throw off the suspicions of people who may recognize our ride, and we choose an inside seat instead of the patio so we won’t be seen by those walking by. The Jailhouse is our dirty little secret.

The main course doesn’t matter, order the omelette, the scramble, the ginger pancakes, while good, these are just fillers anyway. The special of the house is the Soul Food Style bacon. It comes on the side only. We ordered three sides of bacon one morning, gorging ourselves on the thick slices fried perfectly, when the waitress returned, we asked her what the secret was.

“Well, it’s made special for us from the most fatty part of the stomach.” She held up her arms and pantomimed slicing her own belly. “It comes from the best part of the cow.” Wait, what?
I smiled, “You mean pig, right?”
“Oh, yeah, that’s what I mean, from the best part of the pig.” And she ambled off, leaving us to wonder and enjoy the last crispy strips.