This Bacon Fakery Must Stop
I was recently given bacon-flavoured dental floss for my birthday. My first question was: Who the hell gives dental floss as a gift? My second question was: Has bacon gone too far?
I was recently given bacon-flavoured dental floss for my birthday. My first question was: Who the hell gives dental floss as a gift? My second question was: Has bacon gone too far?
By my estimation, only someone who doesn’t understand oral hygiene would give bacon dental floss as a gift. It’s very simple: When we clean our teeth, the goal is to remove all the bits of mushed-up food and God-knows-what and replace them with a clean mouth landscape, preferably minty fresh.
Bacon-flavoured floss is a terrible idea because after eliminating the vestigial guck of our daily chewing, no one wants to be left with the taste of food they didn’t actually eat. That’s why Stilton mouthwash and Miracle Whip whitening strips have yet to be invented.
Now to the meaty question at hand: Has bacon gone too far? Absolutely not. You see, bacon is the victim here. It’s an old-fashioned product that is honest and delicious.
It might get the cold shoulder from Canada’s Food Guide, but bacon doesn’t mind. Bacon knows it is loved and respected and has incalculable mojo.
The first attempts to siphon off some of bacon’s juice came from the fake-food movement, which was unable to muster up original names. By definition, bacon is made from pork. And while it is perfectly acceptable to observe a diet that is restricted by personal, moral or religious beliefs, calling salty strips of beef or turkey “bacon” is just wrong.
It’s a form of identity theft that diminishes the victim’s good name and misleads the public. Case in point: Bacon is delicious, while “beefacon” is not, something I learned at a breakfast buffet in Malaysia.
Vegetarians, meanwhile, have given us bacon-themed “facon” and “vacon,” which are salty strips of vegetable stuff. I have nothing against salty strips of vegetable stuff because those terms exactly define a potat...
I was recently given bacon-flavoured dental floss for my birthday. My first question was: Who the hell gives dental floss as a gift? My second question was: Has bacon gone too far?
By my estimation, only someone who doesn’t understand oral hygiene would give bacon dental floss as a gift. It’s very simple: When we clean our teeth, the goal is to remove all the bits of mushed-up food and God-knows-what and replace them with a clean mouth landscape, preferably minty fresh.
Bacon-flavoured floss is a terrible idea because after eliminating the vestigial guck of our daily chewing, no one wants to be left with the taste of food they didn’t actually eat. That’s why Stilton mouthwash and Miracle Whip whitening strips have yet to be invented.
Now to the meaty question at hand: Has bacon gone too far? Absolutely not. You see, bacon is the victim here. It’s an old-fashioned product that is honest and delicious.
It might get the cold shoulder from Canada’s Food Guide, but bacon doesn’t mind. Bacon knows it is loved and respected and has incalculable mojo.
The first attempts to siphon off some of bacon’s juice came from the fake-food movement, which was unable to muster up original names. By definition, bacon is made from pork. And while it is perfectly acceptable to observe a diet that is restricted by personal, moral or religious beliefs, calling salty strips of beef or turkey “bacon” is just wrong.
It’s a form of identity theft that diminishes the victim’s good name and misleads the public. Case in point: Bacon is delicious, while “beefacon” is not, something I learned at a breakfast buffet in Malaysia.
Vegetarians, meanwhile, have given us bacon-themed “facon” and “vacon,” which are salty strips of vegetable stuff. I have nothing against salty strips of vegetable stuff because those terms exactly define a potato chip. But why not give vegetable strips a new name? Leave bacon out of it.
Think of the outrage that would ensue if someone decided to sell “peaches” made from ground veal. Even if they were clearly labelled “VealPeaches,” people would be upset, especially if they missed the fine print that said, “Must be refrigerated. Cook to an internal temperature of 75 C.”
As if fake bacon weren’t bad enough, there is now a disturbing industry based on appropriating bacon’s taste, smell and likeness. I think it started in the 1990s, when bacon held a bad-boy appeal for diet-conscious consumers. The fast-food industry cottoned on to this and spruced up its tired offerings with mountains of rashers.
Today, bacon saturation is upon us. Some creations, like bacon-flavoured ice cream, jam, vodka, lip balm and “baconnaise,” you can consume. Other stuff, including bacon-themed condoms and bandage strips, as well as bacon-scented candles and pillows, are just meant to be purchased and regretted forever.
Where will this madness end? One solution could be trademark protection—legal rules for content, likeness and a Bacon™ logo that could be used to stop makers of stuff like Magic Vegan Bacon Grease. Think about it; if Interpol and the FBI can get their shorts in a knot over illegal downloads of Transformers: Rise of the Beasts, surely we can muster up some legal firepower to protect one of the world’s best foods.
I think the lawyers should start by tearing a strip off the turkey-bacon people because turkey bacon is scary bad. Baconnaise should be next because it ruins two things at the same time. And you have to admit it would be fun to send a letter to the manufacturers of bacon-flavoured envelopes in one of their own products. “Attention, stealer of Bacon™. You have been served. Wipe your mouth, then cease and desist.”
©2019, David Zimmer. From Cottage Life, 30 December 2019, www.cottagelife.com