I eat bacon almost every day. Okay, every day except today, because I'm moving and have run out. It's expensive bacon, non-cured with pepper, but nevertheless it's bacon. I cook it about halfway and then put it into my homemade croutons as they cool down, and always have it with whatever pasta sauce I make, and then in braised short ribs. Basically if I need a little salt and fat and comfort flavor, it's the ticket. The smell makes me feel cared for, and so far the two or so slices a day I average haven't sent my cholesterol into any bad places.
So imagine my surprise when my fellow Fort Worth resident and favorite celebrity chef wrote a column on The Daily Beast saying that bacon has finally gone too far. Lonesome Dove, his restaurant in the Stockyards district of our city, is by far my favorite place, although it's a special occasion spot. Where you can wear your jeans and see the boss in the kitchen pretty regularly. It's also got one of the most comfortable yet classy bars I've ever been in.
Well, Tim. I respect your opinion as a professional, but I couldn't cook dove, quail or kangaroo (don't roll your eyes, readers: his tacos will make you weep). But I'm not going to give up my habit because it's not cowboy cool.