Maybe it was residual trauma from that experience, but I realized tonight: I don't know how to cook bacon. I mean, I do EAT bacon....but always at the hands of someone else's labor, turns out. I think I've even been assigned to bring bacon to breakfast gatherings, but someone else always ends up cooking it. Shrug?
Fact: I actually BAKE bacon all the time.....wrapped around lil' smokies and covered in brown sugar.
Other fact: Bacon-wrapped lil' smokies are the primary reason people keep inviting me to potlucks.
My friend Chantal came to visit this weekend (pictures/stories to come), and being all hostessy, I was like, "I'll make bacon!"
But then we didn't end up eating bacon, so I still had it in my fridge as of today. I was feeling ambitious about dinner I guess, because I pulled that package o' bacon out of my fridge and set to work. I grabbed a frying pan, I opened the package of bacon, and then.........well, what then? Oil, right? So I grabbed my trusty jar of coconut oil and put a spoonful in the pan. Immediately thereafter, I fretted to my sister via Voxer (more on that below) about whether or not coconut bacon was a) glorious or b) the nastiest idea in the world. I couldn't decide, and the coconut oil was already in the pan, so, westward ho!
I then decided to send my sister a picture of the bacon all laid out in the pan....
....which resulted in the unhinged state of THIS RECORDING. (Have you ever used Voxer? Pretty sure it was originally cool like.....erm, half score and 7 years ago, but I've only recently gotten into it. The point is, it's like texting with little voicemails.......and if you do one thing today, maybe listen to me hysterically losing it about the bacon picture via that link above. Oh, here it is again.)
The raw bacon did ultimately turn into normal-looking cooked bacon....but only after much shrinkage and questionable behavior, including spatting hot oil onto my arm. Bacon, you little jerk.
So, I ate it. And it was delicious and didn't taste a thing like coconut......but man alive it was REALLY salty. Wha? I didn't even add any salt. You'd think you'd get better quality when you buy the cheapest non-turkey bacon available. What does a girl have to do??
Lesson: Bacon is not the time nor place to shop by price. Follow your heart, not your wallet. Teach all the children. Teach 'em good.
I accompanied my salty bacon with two avocado-and-honey sandwiches (Don't even question it, just eat one. Half an avocado all smashed up, and a generous drizzle of honey. It just took me 3 tries to spell generous.) (This sandwich is actually best as an open-faced sammitch with the bread toasted, but the handle may or may not have broken off of my brave little toaster (no seriously, it's a brave little toaster) this weekend, so plain ol' non-toasty bread it was.)
This is my story. Let it be an inspiration to you all.
Now please excuse me while I drink like a gallon of water to combat that pile of salty bacon I consumed a few minutes ago. I don't want to shrivel up -- I know how dehydration and osmosis works. I'm no fool. (Actually I only have vague memories of learning about salt and water and their relationship with osmosis in 9th-grade biology.....I just know I'm really thirsty. SCIENCE!)
(see how artistically I arranged that??? #pinterest)