Bacon Bar…what was I thinking?
“How much bacon do you think you”ll need?” asked my colleague, Betsy, ahead of the Swine Ball on Saturday night (which benefits our nonprofit). “Oh, I don’t know,” I answered. “Thirty pounds?” Thirty pounds doesn’t seem like a lot in an abstract sort of way. Until you are confronted with what 30 pounds of bacon really looks like.
So, just shoot me. The box behind the baking sheet is only half empty and there’s another full box sitting in the fridge at CRC. And I spent six hours today making maple-glazed bacon. And I still have the peanut butter bacon cookies, pimento cheese bacon crisps and bacon dip to go. Also note the Solo cup of Pinot Noir. Yes, I am self-medicating.
I never thought I would say this, but I am friggin’ sick of looking at bacon, cleaning bacon grease off my hands, lugging that stupid box of bacon in and out of the icebox to set up yet another tray of bacon for my poor oven that doesn’t understand why it’s been on for six hours straight and faces at least 20 more hours of duty in the next three days. And, no, I have not done the math on how long total it takes to bake 30 pounds of bacon at 20 minutes for half a pound on each tray. If you do the math, DO NOT TELL ME.