Bacon

Given that part of the mandate of lies like truth is to highlight important cultural trends, it would be remiss of me not to blog about the latest craze sweeping the Bay Area cultural scene: unusual manifestations of bacon.

It's almost impossible to go anywhere these days without encountering the delicious pork product's presence in unlikely contexts. My local candy store sells bacon-flavored chocolate. At a dinner party the other day, someone brought homemade bacon-infused caramels. Even the arts are bringing home the bacon: At a choral rehearsal last Sunday, a fellow singer passed around a Tupperware container full of chocolate chip-nut-bacon cookies. They were extremely tasty.

I can't help but think that the bacon fanaticism is just a passing fad which I suspect people in this most health-conscious of places will tire of when they realize how many extra calories they're consuming thanks to that extra bit of more-ish smoky crunch in their breakfast cereal and beer. But the trend is very much part of Bay Area culture. We embrace this kind of thing here. Creating unlikely mashups in everything we consume from foodstuffs to theatre is in our DNA. This month bacon-riddled truffles are all the rage. Next month it'll be naked virtuoso violin-playing trapeze.

PS This just in from my friend John in Michigan. His son Michael sent him the following story, which pretty much sums up the case for bacon. I guess it's not a Bay Area thing after all - the passion is global.

Bacon Tree

Pancho and Cisco are stuck in the desert wandering aimlessly and starving. They are about to
just lie down and wait for death, when all of a sudden Pancho
says.........

"Hey Cisco, do you smell what I smell. Ees bacon, I theenk."

"Si, Pancho, eet sure smells like bacon. "

With renewed hope they struggle up the next sand dune, & there, in
the distance, is a tree loaded with bacon.

There's raw bacon, there's fried bacon, back bacon, double smoked
bacon ... every imaginable kind of cured pork.

"Cisco, Cisco, we ees saved. Ees a bacon tree."

"Pancho, maybe ees a meerage? We ees in the desert don't forget."

"Cisco, since when deed you ever hear of a meerage that smell like
bacon ... ees no meerage, ees a bacon tree."

And with that, Pancho staggers towards the tree. He gets to within
5 yards, Cisco crawling close behind, when suddenly a machine gun
opens up, and Pancho drops like a wet sock.

Mortally wounded, he warns Cisco with his dying breath,

"Cisco ... go back, you was right, ees not a bacon tree!"

"Panch, Pancho mi amigo... what ees it? "

"Cisco ... ees not a bacon tree. Ees

Ees

Ees

Ees

Ees a ham bush...."