Now They're Never Going to Let Me In The Club

There's something I'vs got to come clean about. It's one of my dirty little culinary secrets:

I hate bacon.

I can hear all of you gasping, feverishly racing for the "back" button on your browser, flummoxed that anyone can hate bacon, but, sadly, I do. It wasn't always this way. Once upon a time, I loved bacon deeply- bacon cheeseburgers, bacon-wrapped meat, bacon and eggs (although I never was a fan of the BLT)- and then, one day, I woke up and I didn't feel the same anymore. I don't know why. Something about the way it smells and the greasy tracks it leaves behind left me... disenchanted.

To be honest, I wish I could love bacon again. It would make my life as a pretender to the culinary throne so much easier. I wouldn't stop reading a recipe or watching a cooking show at the mere mention of bacon. I wouldn't stare perplexed at the screen when contestants and judges alike on Top Chef proclaim their intense passion for it. I wouldn't have to pretend to gag when my husband suggests purchasing and cooking the stuff. (Okay, maybe I don't HAVE to do that, but it feels like I do. You know, to make my point. In case I hadn't made it 376 times before.) But alas, my friends, bacon and I fell out of love a long time ago, and I can't pretend any longer that we haven't. However, I know I'm pretty much alone in my disdain, so, as a mea culpa of sorts, I leave you with this video, because even if we can't agree on bacon, I hope we can all agree on Jim Gaffigan.