If Bacon is So Great, Why Has No One Shoved It Down My Throat?

Illustration: Rin Yeo

In this passion piece, the author laments the puzzling lack of people who enthusiastically eat bacon.

By Robinson Policastri, Food Expert

I, like my fellow foodies, am used to discovering hidden gems from cuisines the world over. I indulge my palate in heavenly dishes. Whether it's massaman curry from Thailand or a slice of Neapolitan pizza, these experiences often feel fulfilling. They offer a sense of contentment that justifies your existence.

But after all these years of consuming great food, I've still struggled to find the answer to one gastronomic question: if bacon is so delicious, why has no one shoved it into my mouth?

I hear nerds say it's the best cured meat since mankind developed food preparation techniques in the era of classical antiquity. And yet, these same people never took the time to stuff cuts of belly pork into my gaping maw. It's almost as if they don't believe their claims about bacon's deliciousness.

As a lover of everything food, I've often found myself wondering why more people are not taking advantage of this purportedly versatile meat. I'm sure countless ways of incorporating it into one's diet are out there for the picking — strips of crispy bacon and pancakes for breakfast, a bacon cheeseburger for lunch, and bacon-wrapped sausage for dinner, to name a few.

But despite the virtues of consuming this cured pork that meat lovers everywhere have championed, bacon seems to be something they are reluctant to insert forcefully into my oral cavity with their bare hands.

At first, I figured this was the case because people would rather not impose their food preferences onto me. I should decide what I consume, after all. I thought maybe my carnivorous friends recognize that I should have the right to choose what I eat, and that they don't want to force bacon down my throat.

I went out of my way. I told them: I give you permission to please kindly shove smoked pig loins into my face hole. Sure, it looks intrusive to force-feed a person. But I'm willing to accept this perceived violation of personal space if it involves something as perfect as bacon.

Alas, I was told they don't wish to "offend my sensibilities" and refuse to entertain my simple inquiry.

Is it the fear of being perceived as gluttonous that keeps these so-called connoisseurs from indulging me in bacon? Or the social stigma that has long been linked to this maligned treat? Whatever the excuse, I feel disappointed when I'm not offered a piece of salt-cured sustenance. This disappointment intensifies when I see others around me putting up a huge show of enjoying it.

It's truly a baffling show of pretense.

So, to anyone reading this who identifies as a lover of bacon, I urge you to walk the boastful talk and embrace your supposed love of this oven staple and share it with others, especially when I'm within the vicinity. Don't be afraid to offer a slice or two to your friends — heck, even strangers like me — and don't be shy about thrusting them yourself into my wide, open piehole.

They say bacon is like duct tape; it fixes everything. But I’m this close to believe the notion of bacon's supposed superiority is highly subjective.

I challenge you to fix me up with small bits of primal pork cuts. Push them with great force into my moist, gaping mouth until I choke. Prove me wrong. ■

Robinson has traveled to 16 countries, consuming all kinds of cuisines along the way. He will be diagnosed with colorectal cancer in three years.