On trefe

 

I have an admission to make. Actually, it's more of a confession. I put it in parochial terms because...well, that will become self evident.

I love bacon. I'm not going to apologize for it. Or hedge in any way. 

I'm sorry if this offends my fellow members of the tribe, but the truth of the matter is I'm not taking dietary suggestions from the same goat herders who said I shouldn't wear two different cloths. Or prescribed how many slaves I could or could not keep. Or had the temerity to say who I could or couldn't love. I choose women but have no issue with others making different choices.

Prior to my late wife's passing, I did not spend much time st the supermarket. I'd find myself going at the last minute to pick up some beer. Or eggs. Or toilet paper. But rarely did I need more than one of those handy plastic baskets. On the very few occasions where I had to do a full shop, I was often told by the cashiers that I was a "terrible shopper."

"What do you mean?"  I would respond.

"You picked all the expensive brand name stuff, when you didn't need to. And the produce you picked is all wrong."

This happened more than once.

One cashier added, "If you were my husband I wouldn't let you near this store."

Needless to say, I've worked hard on my supermarket game. And no longer buy the rock hard peaches. I learned first hand that some folks like them that way.

I'm still prone to picking brand name goods I recognize. And I spend a lot more on fresh fruit and vegetables than I ever have before. And still haven't figured out how to tell if a melon is ripe or not. However, per my doctor's recommendation, "If you want to cut down on drinking, buy the more expensive stuff." 

Hello, top shelf whiskey and Cabernets. That was the best advice he ever gave me.

But when it comes to bacon, this 66 year old man of significant Hebraic Seasonings is All Pro. I will literally stand at the semi-refrigerated display where the bacon and sausage are located, and flip every package over to inspect the bacon from the rear view window. It isn't until I find the thick center cut bacon with a full slab of red meat on the other side that I will make my final choice.

The way I see it, if I'm going to end up standing before the Pearly Gates and having to justify by breakfast meat choices, I want to know my eternity in the Hot Place was offset by some premium, meaty, chewy and crispy bacon. 

SFX Homer Simpson: mmmmmm, bacon.

Oh and Ms. Muse promised to buy me this...