Thomas Jefferson once said, "I had rather be shut up in a very modest cottage with my books, my family and a few old friends, dining on simple bacon, and letting the world roll on as it liked, than to occupy the most splendid post, which any human power can give. "
I'm not sure I'd be happy to be closed up in a small house with bacon, especially not stinky bacon. Before I get to the stinkier aspects of this post, I was amazed by the sheer volume of bacon related information on the web- including the Royal Bacon Society and their holiday picture of a bacon adorned Christmas tree. Truly, wonders NEVER cease.
This morning I made stinky bacon and I am officially a bacon enabler. Let me first state that I do like bacon- I don't mind it, I cook with it and I've been known to pack away BLT's with the best of them. However, there is bacon from a certain bacon purveyor that is the stinkiest stuff ever. It leaves a lingering scent of smoke in the house for days. It tastes like a campfire. It is Tim's favorite thing.
The bacon purveyor, Mom Wilson's is located north of Columbus, Ohio and whenever anyone travels within the one hundred mile radius of the shop, there is a standing request for stinky bacon and other stinky pork products. Tim has been known to pack an empty cooler when heading south for loading with smoked sundries.
Me, on the other hand? I make EVERY EXCUSE I can think of to avoid stopping-
- It's raining
- It's snowing
- It's cold
- It's dark
- It's late
- The bacon people smell and they scare me
- This bacon will kill you
Last trip, I tried these excuses and a few others, but after years of excuses I buckled under the pressure and stopped in to make a purchase. I had the bacon people cryovac the bacon and I wrapped it in multiple paper bags before stashing it in the cold recesses of my trunk for the trip home.
My trunk still smells like stinky bacon.
And now, so does my kitchen.