'One Charmin' Muthaf**kin' Pig'

Vincent: Bacon tastes good. Pork chops taste good.

Jules: A sewer rat might taste like pumpkin pie, but I'll never know 'cause I wouldn't eat the filthy motherfucker. Pigs sleep and root in shit. That's a filthy animal. I don't wanna eat nothin' that ain't got enough sense to disregard its own feces.
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Vincent: So by that rationale, if a pig had a better personality, he’d cease to be a filthy animal?

Jules: We'd have to be talkin' 'bout one charmin’ muthafuckin’ pig. It'd have to be ten times more charming than that Arnold on Green Acres, you know what I’m sayin’?

-Pulp Fiction

Unlike our buddy Jules in ‘Pulp Fiction’, I occasionally do eat animals that don’t have enough sense to disregard their own feces (and I don’t mean dog.) Why is that? It isn’t because I think wallowing in feces would add anything to the flavor (eeewww), but because our buddy Vincent is right: bacon tastes good.

Recently I have had the opportunity to sample chocolate flavored with bacon. I forget the name of the company that makes it. It isn’t a slice of bacon covered in chocolate, although that would certainly make for an interesting candy bar. This stuff was little bits of crispy bacon all mixed up into the chocolate. It sounded really weird at first (pork candy, anyone?) but I finally tried a few pieces. It was better than it had any right to be. Let’s just say it is a breakfast item that could get your day off to a blazing start.

“I love the smell of bacon frying in the morning. That smell, that crispy bacon smell. Smells like…breakfast.” – Lt. Colonel Bill Killpork, 'Aporkalypse Now'

Okay, so I totally made that last quote up. If I were to make a movie about cured pork products, that is what I would call it. So it’s mine, yo! True dat! I claim copyright on the title!

That brings me to the main subject at hand: BACON. For whatever reason, in the past two years or so I have really picked up a taste for bacon. I ate it now and then as I kid, but not every day for breakfast or anything like that. It was good, but I didn’t see then what was the big deal. Lots of fried stuff tasted good; bacon was just one of many. But lately? I look forward to my four strips of bacon with my Sunday morning breakfast. Plus I am sort of regular at a diner around the corner from my office (a story for another post) and they make a turkey club with bacon that is mondo good; I rarely get anything else. I can’t explain the bacon cravings. And no, I am not pregnant. At least I don’t think I am. (pause for testicle check) Yep, I’m a boy, so no preggers.

One delicious (ooh, get it? delicious) irony in all this is that I have also discovered in the past two years what could possibly be the BEST BACON EVER on Planet Earth. And even more ironicer (?) ironically(?) this bacon is made in southern Virginia, in a small town that is much closer to where I grew up than where I live now. So when I am jonesin’ for some bacon, I have to get it via UPS. Well, when I want to get some primo bacon, I do. It’s kind of like the difference between a Hershey bar (good enough) and a Godiva chocolate (oohhhumm!!!!). Once you have the really good stuff, it’s hard to go back.

To borrow from Jules the gangster, this is one charmin’ muthaf***in’ pig!

“My name is Irish Gumbo, eater of cured pork; Look on my bacon, ye hungry, and Despair!”