I'll Have The Bacon

I don’t like tofu.  This is not news to a lot of people who know me, but it’s a fact.  It’s not real food, it makes no sense to me and I just flat out do not like it.  I will tolerate it if it’s already there in something delicious but I just don’t see the point.  If pad thai or soup or whatever it is I’m eating is already wonderful on it’s own, why toss a handful of kitchen sponges in there?  Tofu has no flavor of its own.  It has no soul.  It has no personality.  I have never heard anyone say “You know what would make this better?  Tofu!”  Never. 

This is not the case with bacon.  I know, I know.  Bacon is at its peak right now.  It’s cool.  It’s trendy.  It has its own Twitter account.  Bearded hipsters all around the world are singing bacon’s praises and wearing ironic t-shirts professing their devotion to it.  I love that.  I love bacon.  Always have, always will.  Even when it’s no longer fashionable, bacon and I will be together.  Forever.

Have you noticed that there are no hipster t-shirts dedicated to tofu?  Yeah, me too.  Because tofu just isn’t cool.  Sure, it serves a purpose.  It delivers protein and nutrition to the human body but that’s about all it does.  Tofu will never elicit any sort of emotional response from anyone.  Ever.  Even the hardest core vegetarian who may try to convince you that you just haven’t had the right tofu, or had tofu that was properly prepared does not truly believe that argument himself. 

Consider the sources.  When we think in terms of prosperity, we say things like “Living high on the hog”, or “if we’re going to do this, we’re going whole hog” and we “bring home the bacon”.  Bacon is a valuable piece of a whole food source.  It brings protein, of course, but it also brings flavor.  It brings personality.  Nothing else in the world tastes like bacon and it shares that gift with any other food it’s combined with.  Even its “waste”  (though one can hardly call bacon grease a waste!) lends flair to nearly anything it touches.  Just the aroma of bacon sizzling on the stove is enough to awaken even the sleepiest household. 

Meanwhile, tofu begins with a soybean.  I like soybeans.  They have character and are just fine as they are.  But then they are crushed, squeezed, watered down and squeezed some more until they are shaped into a bland square block of rubbery/spongy substance that has no flavor of its own.  No one brags about bringing home the tofu and tofu isn’t going to wake anyone (unless you drop it on their head, but I wouldn’t recommend that).

I’m talking about food, yes, but I’m also talking about so much more.  My very best friends are Bacon.  The people I choose to be in my life are Bacon.  They come to the table with flavor.  They are all seasoned differently – some are smoked and some are honey cured, some are coated with spicy pepper and some are even Canadian – but they all bring their own charm to the dish and share their essence with every other ingredient they meet.

I have certainly had relationships with Tofu, and have confused them with the real thing.  Tofu friends usually show up as part of a group and fit right in.  Then one day you realize that you are alone with Tofu and you can’t understand why.  Or perhaps Tofu is not present and you don’t even notice until someone mentions the name and you see that you didn’t even miss them.  They took on the personality of the rest of the dish but had no flavor of their own.  Tofu people are not friends.  They may be perfectly nice acquaintances, but they are seat fillers who bring nothing to the party.  Bacon people are not only friends, but they are the first people you call when you need a bit of comfort food, or just a boost of seasoning in your day.

If that old adage that you are what you eat is true, then I’ll have the bacon, please.