Bacon Essay Contest

  On 12/22/2011 at 2:11 AM, kaini said:

  On 12/22/2011 at 2:10 AM, jules said:

Ham hock pork chop ham brisket, kielbasa corned beef shank. Filet mignon shoulder bacon pancetta, fatback turducken strip steak shank pork loin meatball in bacon fat under t-bone hamburger andouille venison drumstick bacon balls. Tail salami leberkäse kielbasa. Pig sirloin pancetta chicken. T-bone strip steak pork loin pig, rump pork chop sausage. Salami short loin tail swine turducken shank. Meatloaf spare ribs venison bacon hamburger pig t-bone.

 

Leberkäse beef ribs turkey, short ribs kielbasa fatback pork. Flank bacon beef, short ribs drumstick short loin cow ball tip. Bresaola biltong swine bacon ice cream sausage meatball, ribeye brisket. Tongue pig turkey flank cow, bacon corned beef. Ribeye sausage tenderloin, filet mignon capicola shankle strip steak swine brisket pork loin pig beef rump andouille boudin. Leberkäse chuck brisket pig beef ribs, turkey bacon flank tenderloin drumstick andouille kielbasa shank tri-tip swine. Salami hamburger capicola, meatball spare ribs swine pancetta bacon t-bone meatloaf pork chop pork belly.

Swine bacon t-bone pork chop fatback pork belly.

 

Salami kielbasa sirloin, pastrami meatloaf ham biltong bacon drumstick pork chop. Spare ribs short ribs pastrami, ground round drumstick tail filet mignon. Meatball shankle ground round tenderloin spare ribs swine, shoulder turducken pancetta andouille. Andouille pork chop bacon sausage pork loin pastrami spare ribs. Pastrami sausage strip steak, hamburger short ribs cow andouille pancetta tail corned bacon beef. Brisket andouille short loin sirloin jerky venison. Bacon.

 

where can i download this unreleased clouddead track?

lol

I can't believe I'm disqualified. fuck you fred. fuck you.

*eats bacon*

the rise of bacon as the people's champion of all meats is meteoric. even vegetarians crave bacon while eating faux-bacon and listening to moby... moby, famous vegan, straight edger and all-round boring guy from canada admits he would secretly love to eat a real bacon sandwich and snort fat lines of PCP from the freshly waxed buttocks of lady-boys. there was a funny little guy called tarsier who used to post here with a moby avatar and he made me smile with his cute posting style.

kevin bacon is a washed up hollywood actor and he used to get a hard time at school for his meat-based name and unfortunate red, cooked, bacon-like complexion. he'd brave the corridors of high school tormented by cries of "OINK! OINK!" and "SQUEAL LIKE A PIG BOY!" and the mean jocks would squirt tomato sauce on him at recess, whatever that is. of course this behaviour juxtaposes the general love for bacon expressed by the whole world. even people in remote countries like the north pole that have never tasted bacon would love bacon. they would eat blubber with bacon and never look back to a life without bacon. over the course of a number of years the people of these remote countries would be addicted to bacon and their society and traditional customs of fishing and blubber hunting would collapse and die out. there is also a british former children's tv presenter called richard bacon who was caught by the tabloids snorting cocaine. this is about the most interesting thing that could be said about this man apart from possibly the only redeeming fact that his name can be shortened to "dick bacon".

speaking of dick bacon... in recent years, with advances in technology and expertise, bacon can now be processed into a multitude of different shapes and forms such as bacon vagina, bacon justin beiber, bacon vodka, bacon toothpaste, turkey bacon, bacon weave, bacon bra, bacon key-chain, bacon curtains. all known recipes can be improved by the addition of bacon. a world without bacon is a world of shit and i for one would not want to live in it... i would end my life and that of everyone i know in the name of bacon. no i wouldn't. hmmm, bacon.

(pre-note: Not really an essay, more of a collection of thoughts and recipe tips on the uses of bacon. Difficult to keep this down to 3 paragraphs when I have so much to write on the subject!)

The versatility of Bacon as a cooking ingredient should never be underestimated. Sure, we all enjoy the traditional bacon sandwich (toasted or plain, its up to you, usually with ketchup or your choice of condiments), but many of the alternative cooking methods are often overlooked due to the simplistic nature of creating your traditional bacon sandwich. Bacon can be enjoyed throughout the year and combined with many seasonal ingredients to form mouth watering dishes.

If you cut a few thick bacon rashers into cubes and fry, you create an excellent addition to pasta carbonara or a pizza topping, both perfect for summertime evening meals. The excess fat (dripping) can be mixed into the sauce to give a kick to the taste if you are not worried about your waistline too much. At Christmas we look to miniature sausages to create the ever popular "pigs in blankets", you roll your streaky bacon around a cocktail sausage and oven bake until crispy. Dry cured bacon rolled over freshly picked asparagus is a perfect starter for a spring meal, but be sure not to overcook.

In the UK, the phenomenally popular "greasy spoon" roadside mobile cafe's are most probably kept in employment through the vast quantities of bacon sold. The bacon roll and cup of tea forms the staple diet of many a builder or delivery driver as part of their daily routine, and it would come to no surprise to most that there is a huge variety in the quality and construction of this most simplest of dishes. I for one have sampled many roadside bacon rolls, with the price and quality fluctuating greatly dependant on county, road status (A, B) and age of vending vehicle (the bills have got to be paid!). Further studies would no doubt reveal trending data on the overall customer satisfaction experienced, and I have often wanted to begin a database of customer feedback, tracking the locations and reviewing the bacon roll as purchased roadside.

Beacon is used to guide navigators to their destinations. When a ship is riding through thick fog or an airplane through dense clouds, it'll find the way due to the beacon. In this case, the beacon is signalling the vehicle with a sonic or optic signal and thus transmitting information about the vehicle's location in relation to the beacon.

A visual beacon can look like a small structure, a lighthouse, or like a light station and it can be located on land or on water. Lighted beacons are called "lights", unlighted beacons are called "unlights". Accidents still occur but not as much as without beacons.

Originally, it was mainly used in war: a signal was sent from the beacons whenever troops would be incoming, or bombs dropped. This type of beacon was usually found on a hilltop or in a tower, in order to maximize it's reach and efficiency.

BACON: IT MAKES YOU BACUM

Pork belly can be prepared in countless ways, perhaps the majority yielding delicious results. But without doubt, the Western world loves bacon the most. Salty, unctuous slices, cooked up crispy, are a key component of many modern dishes from hearty, hangover-curing breakfasts to savory greens that could please the most devout vegetable hater. The meal that suffers from the addition of bacon is the exception, not the rule.

Naturally, this accessibility and visibility have led bacon down the ugliest, most banal paths of opportunistic marketing. Not only exist relatively harmless bacon themed t-shirts, socks, and brazenly useless plastic toys. Also are myriad bacon-flavored refractions of that most offensive modern invention: the food product. The best recognized of these is probably the flatus-inducing textured vegetable protein micro-nugget, sold as a salad topping. The evolution of food-like products has gone so far as to yield the abominable bacon-flavored soda. Indeed you would be hard pressed to find a food product lacking an ostensibly bacon-flavored variety. These nauseous concoctions insult true bacon and its sincere admirers with pallid, ersatz pseudo-flavors, overwhelmingly derived from carcinogenic liquid smoke. These are so inferior to the authentic as to not be worthy of the namesake.

Wise connoisseurs do not allow popularity or futile attempts at imitation to taint their judgment, to make them doubt their good taste. They know their own direct experiences are unique as crystalline snowflakes, never redundant, and they rest assured that they know the good stuff. In the 21st century, nothing positive can any longer come from that old-fashioned elitist notion of pearls before swine, particularly when those pearls are forged from swine.

oh that's good.

During hard times, when the thought of food only will make you suffer, and eventually fall, bacon will save you. Bacon will save you.

The thought of not having bacon at home, makes me dizzy. Usually when I am unsure, and not feeling alright, I will make myself an egg with bacon. This combination is so dramatically excellent that nothing will take over. Thanks to this combination I managed to survive the most intense and mentally exhausting periods of my life.

Thank you bacon, thacon.

  On 12/22/2011 at 2:19 PM, iep said:

Beacon is used to guide navigators to their destinations. When a ship is riding through thick fog or an airplane through dense clouds, it'll find the way due to the beacon. In this case, the beacon is signalling the vehicle with a sonic or optic signal and thus transmitting information about the vehicle's location in relation to the beacon.

 

A visual beacon can look like a small structure, a lighthouse, or like a light station and it can be located on land or on water. Lighted beacons are called "lights", unlighted beacons are called "unlights". Accidents still occur but not as much as without beacons.

 

Originally, it was mainly used in war: a signal was sent from the beacons whenever troops would be incoming, or bombs dropped. This type of beacon was usually found on a hilltop or in a tower, in order to maximize it's reach and efficiency.

its

  On 12/22/2011 at 3:43 PM, iep said:

  On 12/22/2011 at 2:19 PM, iep said:

Beacon is used to guide navigators to their destinations. When a ship is riding through thick fog or an airplane through dense clouds, it'll find the way due to the beacon. In this case, the beacon is signalling the vehicle with a sonic or optic signal and thus transmitting information about the vehicle's location in relation to the beacon.

 

A visual beacon can look like a small structure, a lighthouse, or like a light station and it can be located on land or on water. Lighted beacons are called "lights", unlighted beacons are called "unlights". Accidents still occur but not as much as without beacons.

 

Originally, it was mainly used in war: a signal was sent from the beacons whenever troops would be incoming, or bombs dropped. This type of beacon was usually found on a hilltop or in a tower, in order to maximize it's reach and efficiency.

 

its

disqualified

vinnie.. the vegan?

baph

  On 12/21/2011 at 11:54 PM, sup said:

bacon is meat from the pig. there is a lot of different kinds of bacon if u go the store. there is small (~2 mm thick) and big (2+ thick) also they have short and long types. the short type is what u put on a hamburger cuz there the right size and a big 1 is to long. u can also buy bacon in a bit. u put the bits on potatos

 

bacon can be cooked alot of different ways some ppl like to cook bacon alot so its crispy and some ppl like there bacon chewy. im not a big bacon but i like crispy bacon more cuz i dont like to chew so much. bacon is 1 thing u eat for breakfast but u can also have bacon any time of day. sometimes restrants will let u order there breakfast stuff and they let u choose what kind of meat do u want. saucage or bacon.

 

bacon has alot of fans. bacon fans like to talk about bacon im just talking about it so much cuz i wanna win $10 dollars tho. alot of bacon fans are fat cuz they eat so much bacon lol. in conclusion, bacon is meat from the pig

LOL

Bacon is the Tits

I went to a Brothel in Madrid. I was walking around the streets of

Madrid, after taking in a bottle of wine and listening to a jazz trio;

led by a blind pianist. Feeling pretty tight (a phrase used by

Hemingway in the Sun also rises), I proceeded out to the streets where I

encountered an english speaking Moroccan ( smoking Gauloises) who offered

to sell me some fine " Chocolate". I declined politely, and enjoyed a

cigarette and a short conversation . As i wandered, I noticed a bar sign

that had a neon outline of a nude woman (The design was Matisse like in

its simple absraction and Arabesque contour) . I entered the

establishment. Inside there was a near empty bar and a lounge with a few

women( I was hoping for something like Picasso's Les Demoiselle

D'Avignon) . I went to the bar and ordered a cervezia, there was a poor

attempt at dialogue which frustrated the bar maid. She gestured to a

woman in the lounge. A woman wearing wearing a black dress , concealing

two water balloons, came over to me and speaking broken english explained

the protocol of the place. She explained that I could: Have a drink at

the bar, Have a drink with her, Have some privacy with her ( none of the

options were mutually exclusive). Staring intently at the bustline, I

opted to have a drink with her. She ordered a glass of champaigne and we

sat down. She immediately insisted that I was on cocaine, when I

protested she only shushed me and compassionately said "if I didn't want

to talk about it that's fine, but don't lie to me , and if I wanted to

share she wouldn't mind doing a little bit." Exchanges of this sort

became commonplace in our conversation. After a while we talked of Italy

( she was an Italian "working " in Madrid), the Prado, and useful tips on

the English pronounciation of words like thousand. Her pronouciation was

" Towsand". After an hour or so she asked if I would like privacy. I

declined and she suggested we" have another drink and then do what she

knew I wanted to do". We had another drink which made me more than a

little tight. I stood up and anounced I was leaving, she protested and

kissed me.I thanked her for the time we had and left. I took a piss in

the street outside the "bar", and walked home.

A few years, later, I had a Baconator at Wendy's, and thought of the tits of the prostitute in Madrid. I thought of how they looked like water balloons. It was then I realized bacon is the tits.

If bacon could breast feed, the world would be a better place.

the bacon was there. i knew it was going to be good. i opened the door, fresh scents, all brown and marbled reached me, greeted me, welcomed me to their bouquet of bacons and greases. i delayed. it was fear that made me do it. to catch my breath i sewed a hand-me-down quilt from my grandmother. we were elated. the collar of my jacket was uncomfortable so i named it and subdued it with songs about its name. its. there was a journey that i must take and the aromas made it so difficult to depart. things were asked of me for which i was unprepared. "do you know squarepusher?" no.

i opened the door completely, so that it was totally opened. i crossed the threshold. meet sounds, bacon, gurgled and cried. i wept. more than anything i wanted to approach the flaming cauldron and plunge my fist into the bubbling event. but i didn't. i'd been burned before. by dames, by bosses...and by bacon. i lit a cigarette. i put it out. i spit on the floor. i wiped it up. for a while it was halloween and i dressed the part. but that was a long time ago. now it was me, a kitchen, a flame, a pan, bacon. that's right. bacon.

my mother was there now. my father too. they didn't approve of me. they never did. they had other plans for me, but so did i. i pulled out my revolver. i fired. again. my mother's eyes were swollen with sorrow. my father's face was fierce like a mountain. the bacon was dead. on the floor the scalding pan wobbled before coming to a stand still. smoke filled the room. i blew into the barrel of my gun and twirled the thingy around my index finger. a lousy old dame appeared. i grabbed her round the waste and planted a kiss on her lips. after that, my parents bought me a car and paid for my college. but ever since then i've carried this here revolver...should i see another pan of bacon again, lord help me and four bullets. amen.

The sizzle of bacon hung in the air. Rodrigo who was my chef while I stayed at that villa in Seville, had been cooking bacon for decades. He was simple with it there was nothing fancy required. "Mister" (he always called me mister, as if to add more was to sully himself) "there is no need for more. The bacon is enough." He was right, of course. The bacon was honest and pure. It was good and life was good. The sun was bright on the balcony, and the bacon stirred memories of the previous year. Tom and Mary had visited me from America. I had been excited to show them what I could of Spain.

We had driven to Cadiz to see the shore. We ate at a small place. It was run by a woman and her son who said it had been in their family for generations and that was their life. It was enough. They had cooked bacon in the same brick oven for more than a hundred years. Tom and Mary could see what was good. There were no tricks or weaknesses. The bacon was cooked with simple movements. They could experience the flavor and they knew what was right. If it was not done honestly it would not have been right. If it was not done cleanly Tom and Mary could have seen that with their eyes. I was excited to explain to them the secrets Rodrigo had told me of bacon. They knew what was done well and what was dramatic theater for simpletons. They saw the son with his motions lacking guile. They were simple and they were pure. The bacon was good and life was good.

"Where do you get the bacon from?" I asked Rodrigo. He seemed surprised. "From a pig mister." he replied. He shook his head at the foolishness of the question. He grew weary of me. The simple questions. I retreated behind the cover of a bottle of gin and waited for the evening meal. Rodrigo was with the bacon again. At dinner a bottle of red wine. The bacon was good and life was good.

its been 24 hours whose the winner PS i love u fred

Fred are AWOL

Meanwhile, we wait w/ bated breath

  On 12/22/2011 at 8:29 PM, Alcofribas said:

the bacon was there. i knew it was going to be good. i opened the door, fresh scents, all brown and marbled reached me, greeted me, welcomed me to their bouquet of bacons and greases. i delayed. it was fear that made me do it. to catch my breath i sewed a hand-me-down quilt from my grandmother. we were elated. the collar of my jacket was uncomfortable so i named it and subdued it with songs about its name. its. there was a journey that i must take and the aromas made it so difficult to depart. things were asked of me for which i was unprepared. "do you know squarepusher?" no.

 

i opened the door completely, so that it was totally opened. i crossed the threshold. meet sounds, bacon, gurgled and cried. i wept. more than anything i wanted to approach the flaming cauldron and plunge my fist into the bubbling event. but i didn't. i'd been burned before. by dames, by bosses...and by bacon. i lit a cigarette. i put it out. i spit on the floor. i wiped it up. for a while it was halloween and i dressed the part. but that was a long time ago. now it was me, a kitchen, a flame, a pan, bacon. that's right. bacon.

 

my mother was there now. my father too. they didn't approve of me. they never did. they had other plans for me, but so did i. i pulled out my revolver. i fired. again. my mother's eyes were swollen with sorrow. my father's face was fierce like a mountain. the bacon was dead. on the floor the scalding pan wobbled before coming to a stand still. smoke filled the room. i blew into the barrel of my gun and twirled the thingy around my index finger. a lousy old dame appeared. i grabbed her round the waste and planted a kiss on her lips. after that, my parents bought me a car and paid for my college. but ever since then i've carried this here revolver...should i see another pan of bacon again, lord help me and four bullets. amen.

yeah man.. let it all out man....

Whenever I see Alcofribas' username, I get "O Christmas Tree" stuck in my head.

Al-co-fribas, Al-co-fribas,

Alcofri-bas, Al-co-fribas.

Al-co-fribas, Al-co-fribas,

Alcofri-bas, Al-co-fribas.

  On 12/22/2011 at 7:35 PM, Velazquez said:

Bacon is the Tits

 

 

 

I went to a Brothel in Madrid. I was walking around the streets of

Madrid, after taking in a bottle of wine and listening to a jazz trio;

led by a blind pianist. Feeling pretty tight (a phrase used by

Hemingway in the Sun also rises), I proceeded out to the streets where I

encountered an english speaking Moroccan ( smoking Gauloises) who offered

to sell me some fine " Chocolate". I declined politely, and enjoyed a

cigarette and a short conversation . As i wandered, I noticed a bar sign

that had a neon outline of a nude woman (The design was Matisse like in

its simple absraction and Arabesque contour) . I entered the

establishment. Inside there was a near empty bar and a lounge with a few

women( I was hoping for something like Picasso's Les Demoiselle

D'Avignon) . I went to the bar and ordered a cervezia, there was a poor

attempt at dialogue which frustrated the bar maid. She gestured to a

woman in the lounge. A woman wearing wearing a black dress , concealing

two water balloons, came over to me and speaking broken english explained

the protocol of the place. She explained that I could: Have a drink at

the bar, Have a drink with her, Have some privacy with her ( none of the

options were mutually exclusive). Staring intently at the bustline, I

opted to have a drink with her. She ordered a glass of champaigne and we

sat down. She immediately insisted that I was on cocaine, when I

protested she only shushed me and compassionately said "if I didn't want

to talk about it that's fine, but don't lie to me , and if I wanted to

share she wouldn't mind doing a little bit." Exchanges of this sort

became commonplace in our conversation. After a while we talked of Italy

( she was an Italian "working " in Madrid), the Prado, and useful tips on

the English pronounciation of words like thousand. Her pronouciation was

" Towsand". After an hour or so she asked if I would like privacy. I

declined and she suggested we" have another drink and then do what she

knew I wanted to do". We had another drink which made me more than a

little tight. I stood up and anounced I was leaving, she protested and

kissed me.I thanked her for the time we had and left. I took a piss in

the street outside the "bar", and walked home.

 

A few years, later, I had a Baconator at Wendy's, and thought of the tits of the prostitute in Madrid. I thought of how they looked like water balloons. It was then I realized bacon is the tits.

 

If bacon could breast feed, the world would be a better place.

ah lol that font. needs a small format paperback for true hemmingway stylings.

okay locking thread so I can review the essays.