First let me say that, in my opinion, bacon is special. I've heard the idea that everything is better with bacon, and I have to say that I disagree. At work last night the GM mentioned the idea of bacon powder, a substance introduced through the new magic of molecular gastronomy.
I have no real or major issues with molecular gastronomy though I do believe that the nature of food and eating isn't going to drastically change because a few wild and crazy chefs love to play with their food. I can appreciate the peaks they attempt, the zany ideas they bring to life, and I can especially appreciate the truly good ideas (sou vide) that actually add to the whole of our range of cooking repertoire.
But bacon is special. Bacon should be left alone or will suffer, as will we all, from an over saturation of the market, in this case our palate and stomach. If everything has bacon in or on it, and if everything tastes like bacon, then eventually bacon is not special, is not the treat it currently is.
Bacon cheeseburger? Hell yes please! BLT? Fuck yeah and a half! Bacon mat? Oh sweet baby Jesus on a trampoline I can only imagine!
Really I think my feeling is this, that if you want bacon, you should cook some up and find a way to add it reasonably to your food. Not all salads are better with bacon bits. Not all soups need a sprinkle of rough chopped bacon floating on the top.
Bacon is special. Let's not over extend our dear friend bacon in the short term and ruin it like yesterday's hypercolor shirts. Anything can become a trend, but once everyone is wearing the same thing it's not different anymore. Once everything tastes like bacon then bacon becomes bleah.
And really? what beats a hot and chewy slice of bacon, fresh from the paper towel covered plate, not all the grease having drained off?
Wednesday, January 07, 2009
crate walk
Have I mentioned the crate walk? If so then feel free to completely disregard this post, and if you want to avoid hearing me bitch, then by all means scoot away. Keep in mind it's a relatively minor bitch, and at least is not about feelings of woe and dark thoughts.
You'll remember the weeks of rain I bitched about recently, and just so you know, the tiny window of nice weather is gone yet again. We are back in the grip of seemingly constant rain. I'm mostly tired of it, but being the gloomy puss that I am, I can't say it effects me quite as much as it could.
Beneath our little house is a little basement. It's not in any way attached to the house really so much as it's a hole over which the house was built. If I could stand upright in this hole then it would be concrete and cinder block to about the level of my chest, and today, a crate walk day, I can stand even less upright.
Rain in abundance and the basement too often combine in some minor flooding issues. I keep thinking I'll clean the basement on a dry day, but like so many things, once the problem is out of sight it is as quickly out of mind.
In the corner of the basement farthest from the door is pump sunk into a hole in the floor. The pump works, but because the basement is so dirty and because so much dirt washes in on those rainy days it sometimes needs to be jiggled a little.
And here we get to the crate walk. I have two old milk crates sitting in the basement, both turned upside down. To keep my dainty tootsies out of the water, I step from the basement stairs onto the first crate and then put my front foot onto the next crate. Depending on what's managed to float into my path to the pump I can move in one of two ways. Either I can slide the crates, first one, then catch up with the other, or I can stand on one, lift and move the other forward then step to it. In this way I can reach the pump to give it its jiggle and start its work removing the water from the basement.
In no (or quite some) time at all, the basement will be free of water. Soon enough I'll be able to go back in with my box of matches and a list of curse words. The matches are to light the water heater pilot, and the curse words are for all the times it doesn't work and the match goes out.
And did I tell you that I think the heater may have gone out? That's a new one on me, and I'm not sure how it would have. Its pilot is at least a couple of feet above the average water line.
Now I'm off to fix a cup of coffee and check on the pump's progress. I was hoping for a shower today. Also, the sky is a nasty white/gray, and the wind is whipping our plastic chairs into a fury. Today is a good day for downed branches and creepy wind in the window noises. I have to admit thought that considering how bad some have it, my crate walk and delayed shower are absolutely nothing. I hope your weather is good and your loved ones are safe.
You'll remember the weeks of rain I bitched about recently, and just so you know, the tiny window of nice weather is gone yet again. We are back in the grip of seemingly constant rain. I'm mostly tired of it, but being the gloomy puss that I am, I can't say it effects me quite as much as it could.
Beneath our little house is a little basement. It's not in any way attached to the house really so much as it's a hole over which the house was built. If I could stand upright in this hole then it would be concrete and cinder block to about the level of my chest, and today, a crate walk day, I can stand even less upright.
Rain in abundance and the basement too often combine in some minor flooding issues. I keep thinking I'll clean the basement on a dry day, but like so many things, once the problem is out of sight it is as quickly out of mind.
In the corner of the basement farthest from the door is pump sunk into a hole in the floor. The pump works, but because the basement is so dirty and because so much dirt washes in on those rainy days it sometimes needs to be jiggled a little.
And here we get to the crate walk. I have two old milk crates sitting in the basement, both turned upside down. To keep my dainty tootsies out of the water, I step from the basement stairs onto the first crate and then put my front foot onto the next crate. Depending on what's managed to float into my path to the pump I can move in one of two ways. Either I can slide the crates, first one, then catch up with the other, or I can stand on one, lift and move the other forward then step to it. In this way I can reach the pump to give it its jiggle and start its work removing the water from the basement.
In no (or quite some) time at all, the basement will be free of water. Soon enough I'll be able to go back in with my box of matches and a list of curse words. The matches are to light the water heater pilot, and the curse words are for all the times it doesn't work and the match goes out.
And did I tell you that I think the heater may have gone out? That's a new one on me, and I'm not sure how it would have. Its pilot is at least a couple of feet above the average water line.
Now I'm off to fix a cup of coffee and check on the pump's progress. I was hoping for a shower today. Also, the sky is a nasty white/gray, and the wind is whipping our plastic chairs into a fury. Today is a good day for downed branches and creepy wind in the window noises. I have to admit thought that considering how bad some have it, my crate walk and delayed shower are absolutely nothing. I hope your weather is good and your loved ones are safe.
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