When things don’t work out in your favour, there are varying levels of disappointment. It can result in anything from a shoulder shrug to a more than mild annoyance. But when things you’re looking forward to don’t work out in your favour, you can reach Hulklike levels of distain.
While shopping recently during a grocery replenishing run, I came upon a favourite of mine and apparently most of the free world, considering the secondary market for items proclaiming people’s love of said item. Bacon.
Yes, bacon. Just the word causes salivation. When combined with the words “on sale” all bets are off. I was surprisingly restrained considering what was in front of me. I picked up one solitary package (after thoroughly examining it through the tiny clear package windows for optimum meat-fat ratio) placed it in the cart and was on my way.
Fast forward to this morning. I woke up feeling good, had a great coffee, and thought maybe my girlfriend would enjoy some breakfast in bed. Nothing fancy (not that she doesn’t deserve it,) but eggs sunny side up and runny, toast for dipping, and a couple pieces (or handfuls) of bacon would do nicely. I gathered the food, started the burner, and opened my bountiful meat gift:
That looks great, doesn’t it? All meaty, delicious, tempting you to go for it and just deep fry the whole thing. But then there’d be none left for later, so I abstained and flipped it over to being peeling delicious minutes off the end of my life…
WHAT. IS. THAT? I’m all for delicious fat on my bacon to help with the flavour, and there needs to be some to cook the eggs in afterwards, but SERIOUSLY?!?! The meat part was the side showing in the grocery store, I thought it was marbled, not RENDERED.
It’s like someone took a brick of pig fat and cut it into bacon shaped pieces. My heart sank. It’s a small thing in life, but if you know bacon, love bacon, have ever looked forward to bacon, you know what I was feeling at that moment. I thought about throwing the whole thing in the garbage in disappointment, but WHOA WHOA WHOA, let’s not go crazy here.
So I began the process of peeling off a few pieces. Let me rephrase, I began the attempt of peeling off a few pieces. It was like trying to open the pages of a book made of frozen butter. Chunks of “bacon” were coming off in my fingers. I took a breath. I didn’t come this far for NO bacon. So I flipped it over and tried again.
After losing about 15% of “bacon” due to trial and error, I figured out a method to finally get it off piece by piece. Thankfully, cooked at a precise temperature (the burner was set to “ON”), the bacon held together in the pan and turned into crispy sticks of artery clogging goodness.
Let this be a warning to bacon lovers everywhere. No matter how prepared you think you are and how careful you are when selecting your prize, Bacon Roulette will strike everyone at some point in time. Be ready to deal with the consequences.
And that’s how I wrote 547 words about what I ate for breakfast.