By Amy Van Veen (The Cascade) – Email
Print Edition: April 3, 2013
Remember that time swine flu put a dent in the pork industry because its misnomer made people run away screaming when they saw anything swine-related?
Well that was four years ago, and things are a little different.
Bacon historians believe the baconmania can be traced back to the 1980s fad diet Atkins where protein is the key in ingredient in every meal. Even though the swine flu epidemic gave everyone a scare and the end of bacon was predicted, the ominous “end of days” prediction for the world of bacon turned out to be false.
Bacon is king.
I mean that in the most non-literal sense – because if bacon was king we’d have to deal with the complications of being knighted by cured meat products and begin singing songs like “God Save the Bacon” and things would get awkward because how is bacon supposed to wear a crown?
But I digress.
It seems in recent years the love of bacon has reached a viral state of omnipresence. There are websites devoted to the love of bacon, bacon news and why bacon is the greatest food of all time. Non-fiction books have been written, like Heather Lauer’s Bacon: A Love Story, A Salty Survey of Everybody’s Favourite Meat. Bacon has moved from breakfast to lunch to dinner to dessert to cocktails and even to the world of condom flavours. You can buy t-shirts, mugs and posters expressing your love of bacon. Whole Foods even had a contest for a year’s supply of smokehouse bacon.
The classic itself—without all the thrills and frills of merchandise—is sold with numerous variations; whether it be low sodium, thick sliced, lean, nitrate free, organic, antibiotic and hormone free and uncured. And for those who either require pork free diets or prefer opting for a “healthier” version of the original, there’s turkey bacon.
But why the love of bacon?
It seems that even asking that question is redundant. Why the love of bacon? Because … bacon! Bacon is one of the most socially acceptable ways to eat strips of artery-clogging fat. Eating from Fatburger draws scornful, accusing looks from friends, but eating some bacon is celebrated. Most people feel insecure when deep-frying things in their home because the pervasive smell of oil seems to stick in every pore, but when guests walk in and smell bacon, heads nod with jealousy and appreciation.
It’s become a culinary humblebrag among friends. “What’d you do this weekend?” “I had bacon for breakfast, lunch and dinner.” “Nice.”
Bacon has a way of making things better. It can make boring meals amazing and it can heal broken hearts.
Ron Swanson said it best, “I’m worried what you just heard was, ‘Give me a lot of bacon and eggs.’ What I said was, ‘Give me all the bacon and eggs you have.’ Do you understand?”
We understand, Ron. We do.
