Maybe you're like my editor, who's had enough of the bacon insanity that has been sizzling in our culture for the past few years.
"Bacon is our god," she says. "We are worshiping our pork-belly master."
Or maybe you're like me. I was attacking bacon-wrapped dogs from L.A. food carts before Tonya Harding's goons were attacking Nancy Kerrigan's leg. I've believed a breakfast joint is only as good as its bacon since I could say "over easy." I once named a kitten after a Baja California dish that wrapped prawns and jack cheese in you know what. (The little baller's name was Shrimp Papagayo.)
In a culture obsessed with bacon, I'm not just a member, I'm an early adopter and enthusiastic card-carrier. Just the other day I discovered NorCal's Bacon Hot Sauce, ordered some online and blew through two bottles ($14.99/three-pack; check out www.baconhotsauce.com).
But as cooks began chicken-frying bacon in Snook, Texas (check out the above vid), bakers started stuffing it in scones, Whole Foods kept slanging chocolate-bacon candy bars...
and YouTube freaks went on greasing us with videos on candy bacon (above) or weaving bacon into whole blankets, I figured we were approaching reached a saturation point.
Now you can give your baby My First Bacon as its best friend. This piece of pork has more going for it than a slick personal statement (“You’ve got a friend in meat!”). The cute little guy’s three feet long, nice and squooshy like a stuffed animal, with cartoony eyeballs.
And (!): This is a creature that speaks for itself. Truly. Press the button behind where his left ear would be and the masculine-sounding meat says, “I’m Bacon,” in a low baritone that sticks in your head like turkey bacon to the pan.
ThinkGeek is the brains behind the bacon. Check out their "stuff for smart masses" website for more.
Did someone say best Christmas gift ever?