That's Some Pig

For Christmas I made a dish from a recipe I've been carting around for 20 years. It's a "bean" casserole that my step-mom used to make. Not only does it have three different kinds of beans, but it has brown sugar, ketchup, mustard, pork 'n' beans, ground beef, and bacon! Mmmm! I can't explain why I bought the highest quality ground beef and bacon to toss into this strange medley, but it paid off when my "foodie" friends were going back for seconds. I attribute partial success to the level of commitment I had in regards to frying the bacon. I turned to the old Better Homes and Gardens "New" Cook Book to see what they recommend for temperature and cooking time. (This cookbook is perfect for someone like me that doesn't really cook. It even explains how to boil an egg.) Frying bacon: Medium-low heat, 6-8 minutes, turning often. I followed those instructions to a "t" and it was the best damn bacon I've had in a long time, if I do say so myself. Exhibit A (photo): happiness is a plateful of bacon

Coincidentally my students and I are reading Charlotte's Web right now. The kids are falling in love with Wilbur, the pig. I usually don't enjoy stories (especially movies) with talking animals. It feels so manipulative, plus it's downright creepy. But I'll admit that I actually kind of like this particular story, and it's not because I love pigs. I absolutely hated that movie Babe. But as we read this sweet little story about a pig being saved from slaughter, the students are coming to terms with the fact that pigs are ham, pork chops, chicharróns, and most importantly, BACON! (Now if you are an avid reader of this blog, you might remember my ode-to-bacon blog entitled, "Rock Bottom".)

Clearly I am not a vegetarian, but if I were, I'd be a really good one. I'm hip to the politics, I enjoy most vegetables, and I can't stand the thought of killing an animal myself. (Some say that if you're not willing to kill it yourself, you shouldn't eat it.) But, herein lies my dilemma. Meat is tasty. I can be put into an immediate food coma with a perfectly prepared piece of rare (yes, rare) steak. And don't let anybody tell you that any ol' piece of meat will do. I really do taste the difference with the organic, grass-fed, no hormones meat.

I'm sorry to say that as I read Charlotte's Web I cannot speak to the children on behalf of PETA or on behalf of the talking pigs of the world, because I'm too busy imagining the serenity and joy I will feel when I bite into that next perfect piece of bacon.