For nearly 33 years, I lived a bacon-free life. When I reflect on it now, it feels almost criminal. My family never incorporated bacon into our meals, not due to any religious beliefs—we certainly didn’t keep kosher—but simply because it wasn’t part of our cooking.
Out of fear of the unknown, I spent years swapping out traditional breakfast meats for fruit or toast, claiming, “I just don’t like breakfast meats.” When ordering Cobb salads, I would request extra avocado, holding the bacon. I would cringe when others added bacon to their sandwiches or burgers. To me, bacon was just fatty pig meat; I didn’t understand the hype.
Then, a week ago, my friend Lisa came to visit. Known for her culinary skills, she whipped up a delightful brunch featuring a Red Pepper Frittata alongside Brown Sugar-Chili Bacon. I agreed to try the Frittata but insisted that bacon wasn’t my thing. Lisa looked at me in disbelief, asking, “Have you even tried bacon? It’s impossible not to like it!”
As the bacon sizzled that June morning, the sweet and salty aroma enveloped the house, and I felt my mouth watering. I hesitated but finally took a tentative bite, napkin at the ready. To my astonishment, it was incredible—like nothing I had ever tasted before. Each crunchy bite seemed to vanish before I even realized it.
Since that fateful day, thoughts of bacon have consumed me. I dream of it in the mornings, evenings, and at dinner time. Ideas for warm bacon dressing on fresh greens, bacon and spinach quiche, and bacon-wrapped dates swirl in my mind. How did I go so long without it?
I now realize that I have 33 years’ worth of bacon enjoyment to catch up on, and I intend to savor every last bite.
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In summary, discovering bacon after so many years was a delightful revelation, and I’m eager to explore all the delicious ways to enjoy it.