The definitive building block of food porn now has its own erotic cookbook. Fifty Shades of Bacon, about damn time. Right, ladies? 'Cause I know once you satiate your carnally voyeuristic instincts reading Fifty Shades of Grey your stomach will be rumbling for some pork products. My stomach is always rumbling for some pork products, so if you'd like to maestro up a post-trashy-novel-reading pot of Bacon Alfredo with a side of Bacon au Gratin and Bacon S'mores for dessert, that'd be fine with me. I'd even wash it all down with a Bacon Bloody Mary.
Though Fifty Shades of Bacon is more tongue-in-cheek sexy than sexy sexy (i.e., no naked women wrapped in raw meat), it does deliver some of the finest recipes of the swine persuasion since the day the first slice of pig belly sizzled on a hot frying pan. Although it is crushingly bereft of the magic ingredients and instructions for creating Skillet's Bacon Jam. Still have to spend the entirety of my weekly allowance on that jammified crack.
But to end on a positive note, I believe that Fifty Shades of Bacon is further proof--and I end this sentiment with an emphatic Amen!--that the era of catering to self-righteous, meat-abhorring, guilt-tripping vegetarians is over!
I'll say it again: Amen!