epic nomz

On a recent Saturday afternoon in October, an assembly of fine Americans gathered in Prospect Park, Brooklyn to celebrate what can only be described as one of the purest, most joyful man-bacon love fests the world has ever seen: the Brooklyn Bacon Party. While our numbers were modest, our hearts, and stomachs, were fully committed to working our way through a tasting of about twelve pounds of bacon.

Our party was blessed with the quasi-sponsorship of Rocco from BaconFreak.com who graciously provided us with four glorious packages of gourmet bacon (in addition to some other sweet merchandise). Included in the shipment were Cajun Style Hickory Smoked Country Bacon, Private Reserve Sun Dried Tomato Bacon, and Honey BBQ Rubbed Bacon. The Cajun-style bacon was by far the most highly anticipated among party-goers, and turned out to be the favorite of the group, yet each variety was incredibly tasty and seasoned to perfection. The bacon was prepared on the open grill by a rotating troop of master chefs, and most was served au naturel so tasters could fully appreciate the unique flavor of each selection.

To augment Rocco’s meat candy, we whipped up our own little creation, fittingly called the Bacon Pizza. While the dish may seem relatively simple to the bacon neophyte, it requires abundant patience and nuanced skill in bacon-handling that only a true bacon lover can provide. The foundation of the pizza is a wheat/multigrain rounded tortilla that is sprinkled, nay smothered, with shredded sharp cheddar cheese and baked in an oven for about seven minutes. On top of the baked “pizza crust” is a bacon mat which consists of about twelve of your sturdiest strips of bacon weaved under and over each other and cooked in an oven until the mat begins to stick together (to the extent that it will). Finish it off with another healthy layer of cheddar cheese and a hot sauce of your choice and you have the most delicious pile of grilled cheesy bacon ever!

As the afternoon progressed, our ranks were soon joined by a couple of feral feline friends. Although initially meek and suspicious of our bacon-centric gathering, we soon won their trust and protection by luring them with some of our crispy honey barbeque offerings.

Unfortunately, our festivities were abruptly shortened by the inopportune arrival of law enforcement officials. As it turns out, we were in violation of an arcane New York City law enacted in the early 1900s that prohibited the open consumption of bacon and other pork products in public areas.

Just kidding – that would be the worst law ever. Actually, we were just caught mixing some vodka in with our orange juice (as if having a mid-afternoon cocktail is in any way harmful). Either way, since the police were decidedly less welcome than the cats, they were not offered any bacon. But what bacon party is complete without cops?

Court summonses aside, neither kitty invasion, nor queasy grease-filled stomachs, nor prospect of imminent heart disease could stop our epic nomming. As a proud group of baconphiles, we emerged from the Brooklyn Bacon Party greasier than if we climbed out of a bucket of KFC fried chicken and lathered ourselves in Crisco. But as the sun set and the aroma of crispy bacon settled throughout Brooklyn, one thing was certain: in the end, bacon won the day.

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