We live in a golden age of bacon. A golden-brown, crispy, succulent age.
Ever since it was discovered that bacon contains zero carbohydrates, bacon has enjoyed a renaissance, an emergence as a seemingly never-ending pop-culture meme.
And why not? While some people complain about its “fat content” or “high levels of salt,” purveyors of narrow-sliced pig parts recognize that a mouthful of bacon can bring joy.
Need proof? Bacon proselytization reached a fevered pitch at Baconfest Chicago, an annual porkstravaganza Saturday at the University of Illinois at Chicago Forum. Bacon, cured bacon, bacon jam, bacon baklava, mini whiskey bacon pops, eco-friendly bacon-and-eggs pillows. The event sold out in February, further evidence of the product’s popularity.
These days, bacon is even inspiring poetry, with lines like this from baconteur Ryan Myers: “The experience of the human condition is merely what one must endure between bacons.” Poet Robert Frost could only dream of weaving words with such sizzle.
There are, of course, competing opinions on why America has gone so bacon crazy.
Some think the foodie-driven push for locally grown products could be behind it — apparently you can plant a pig just about anywhere, and pigs are a leading source of bacon.
Others credit the explosion of hamburger restaurants, because where there are burgers, bacon is never far behind.
Perhaps it’s because the sweet and salty smell evokes memories of home-cooked breakfasts or late-night diners.
Or maybe it’s simply that it’s a meat that can easily be wrapped around other meats. After all, what’s more American than double-meats?
Whatever the reason, we tip our portable defibrillators to this classic kitchen staple, and respectfully raise a decanter of bacon grease gravy in its honor.
