I want to be the Bacon Critic
Well, here’s an oxymoron. Extracrispy.com is looking for a bacon critic. I know of no bacon critics. People who are critical of bacon. Not a one except maybe some lunatic health care professional who does not understand the medicinal properties of bacon grease as only a Southern grandmother can.
However, I am going to apply. I am not a critic of bacon but I am, modestly, enrolled for life in the advanced study of bacon. It is embarrassingly well known among my friends and colleagues.
Just a few weeks ago, I did a bacon comparison on this site. It was extremely well received, especially by me because I hate a pile of bacon in the process.
So here’s the job description:
Our Bacon Critic can live anywhere in the U.S. and will spend a three-month appointment researching, writing about, obsessing over and critiquing bacon. Yes, this is a very real paid freelance position we’re looking to fill in the near future.
The Extra Crispy Bacon Critic needs to be opinionated and thorough in his or her research, and will be expected to eventually decide which bacon is the best in the country. Other qualifications include serious writing chops, an unmistakable voice, a sense of adventure and an insatiable hunger—for bacon.
I think I’ve got a shot at this. First of all, I am well stocked with quality bacon at all times. Right now, I have several kinds of Nueske’s, a package of Jones dry-aged cherry wood smoked bacon and that old standby, center-cut Oscar Mayer. I have easy access to Niman Ranch and Benton’s. Porter Road Butcher is just down the road and it produces one of the finest bacons in all of the land.
Modestly, I believe I’m solid in the writing department, I can speak so the voice thing is covered (kidding, I know what they mean) and my sense of adventure is legendary (okay, I’m making that up).
I am so well known as a bacon expert that my friends honor me with bacon socks, bacon t-shirts, bacon tea towels, bacon soap (not recommended) and a microwave ceramic bacon cooker that works remarkably well although it will never replace baking it in the oven (highly recommended).
I’m so committed that at the Community Resource Center we have Bacon Wednesdays for which I have produced spectacular dishes. Bacon maple sticky buns. Bacon-wrapped dates. Bacon goat cheese bites. Bacon fig tartlets. Bacon peanut butter cookies. Spiced bacon. Pig Candy. I could go on. For hours. My favorite? Bacon-wrapped cocktail weenies. So outrageous. So inappropriate. So good.
I have even been called on to produce bacon in bulk from time to time, most notably the bacon bar at the Swine Ball a few years ago. It was a thing of beauty. Thirty pounds of bacon. Better than any Las Vegas buffet.
So I’m in it to win it as Bacon Critic. I’m already having extreme fantasies about hundreds of pounds of bacon arriving at 5117 on dry ice, waiting to be cooked, eaten and evaluated. Maybe Extra Crispy will let me travel to famed bacon destinations such as Zingerman’s Bacon Camp. Or visit Allan Benton. He’s just down the road.
So grease the skids, Extra Crispy. Let momma bring home the bacon.
I almost forgot. Extra Crispy wants to know my favorite bacon memory. It was Monday. The last time I had bacon. A bacon lover’s BLT at the Waffle House, to be exact.