February 23rd, 2009



Mama is awesome.

She is making me a quilt!

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    "La Isla Bonita" (in my head)
bad idea, XKCD, what could go wrong, That Idiot Shawn

Bacon 'splodey!

My aunt and I were in the grocery store seeking ground turkey for supper when I saw it: a log of what appeared to be woven bacon. "Omigod!" I cried. "A Bacon Explosion! ... I didn't think those existed except for with hobbyists on the internet!"

"That's where I saw it," said the meat department guy, a fellow perhaps my age, with a lot of piercings. He looked proud of his accomplishment.

"Should we get some?" asked my aunt, eying it dubiously.

"Yes!" I said.

"What is that?" some random guy asked.

"Woven bacon, wrapped around sausage," I said at about the same time as the meat department guy did.

The meat department guy wrapped it up for us. "Please tell me how it turns out," the meat department guy said. I got the feeling he was slightly surprised that someone had bought it, and perhaps was scheming about the next crazy meat-related experiment he could see if people bought, and was probably going to cheerfully tell his boss that see, someone bought it, he was right, it would too sell.

"Why did I let you talk me into getting this?" my aunt asked as we were walking for the car. "People could DIE from this!"

"From trichinosis or a heart attack?" I asked cheekily.

"Nice having known you," my cousin put in from upstairs, as I announced myself and the Grand Purchase upon our return. (He, too, is a denizen of the internets, and knows what a Bacon Explosion is without me having to define it.)

I put it in the oven below the hamburgers while they were grilling, with the temperature probe stuck in and set to 170°F.

a woven log of bacon, uncooked

Eventually, the hamburgers were done. I switched to cooking it at 330°F. The top started to look done after a while, and the internal temperature hit. However, the lower half of the bacon was not yet done. I turned it over and continued to cook it. After the internal temperature was well above where it had to be, I turned the broiler back on low again.

Ten minutes later, it was done! (Well, eight and some. My aunt smelled something suspiciously like overdone bacon. Some of the edges were blackened.)

a woven log of bacon, cooked

My aunt and I took slices. Yum! I forewent the barbecue sauce. My aunt nibbled off the bacon from hers, then started tossing pieces of sausage to the dogs. (She is not a fan of Italian sausage.) I was still eating my tasty sausagey slice. One of the tosses went wild, and the sausage chunk ricocheted off my laptop's power cord and slithered under the couch I was sitting on. The poodle dove after it, upsetting me, causing me to drop my table knife on his head and also my skirt. He paid that no mind, and kept rooting about under the hem of my skirt and under the couch. I abandoned my position. My aunt grabbed the abandoned knife and fished the sausage back out from under the couch.

I repaired to IRC to soothe my ruffled composure.

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I tried another, thinner, slice, this time with barbecue sauce. I am not much of a barbecue sauce fan, however, and it didn't taste quite like I thought it should. Maybe it should be glazed in the last few minutes of baking.

The rest of it is in the refrigerator. I may have a slice of it with breakfast. A very thin slice.

(Cross-posted to trashy_eats.)

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