Hopping, or any form of light step, may no longer be an option after indulging in this meaty fest of vile pig delights. Ken keeps shuddering. He didn't realize just how squeamish he was until the B.E. rolled along today. It's baking in the oven right now. We're also not too sure what it may do to our insides. Hm. Maybe this is where the "explosion" part of the moniker comes in.Let's back up here though.
Of the zillion (mostly) entertaining-but-way-too-many-to-keep-up-with forwards and You Tube links and jokes that land in my inbox -- the Bacon Explosion did catch my crispy-fried-meat-lovin' eye. And eye for the grotesque. I had no idea yet that it was "an Internet sensation," as described in its very own Wikipedia entry from January 2009. I did handpick a small number of folks I knew who would truly appreciate something like the Bacon Explosion. My dad. Doug. Kathy. Colleen.
My dad emailed back, "Fabulous! Let's do it!"
Take note that my father often teeters on the fine line between gourmand and glutton. Nitpicking aside, the delightful thing is that enjoying food makes him fabulously happy.
But still, I didn't take his comment seriously. Until a few weeks later he showed up from his three hour drive to my doorstep, grinning, with two pounds of bacon and two pounds of sausage. "All you need to add is the BBQ sauce and spice rub." There was no choice in the matter. Time to hop on the bacon bandwagon and enjoy the good life with my dad and lots of rendered meat.
I love being in the company of people who delight in small pleasures - and large bacon explosions. I love my dad.
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