Everywhere Peter Meehan looks, he sees bacon. Fatty, salty, bombastic, and blissfully delicious bacon. The Salon writer tries to figure out "where we are in the bacon bonanza"—he cites bacon spray, scented candles, trendy recipes, even a bacon-of-the-month club—and reaches out to experts "to see if there's relief from or more fervent bacon mania on the horizon." The upshot: Bet on the bacon.
"No amount of shark jumping will ever tank bacon's status," Meehan writes, "because bacon is the Arthur Herbert Fonzarelli of the meat world. Personified, it would be Henry Winkler, not James Dean: popular but not quite cool; desirable but not unattainable; not bland but not challenging. It's not dangerous at all to like bacon or the Fonz. ... Long may it sizzle."