The trick to good bacon is not so much the chef’s doing whatsoever. The preparation is pretty standard: cook the strips at 340 degrees for about three minutes per side — more or less depending how crispy you’d like it. Instead, really good, cooked bacon comes from really good uncooked bacon. This morning I decided to try out whatever it was my dad brough home earlier this week. At first I was a little suspicious; it looked perhaps a bit too fatty. And the fatty bits tend to curl and drip. But as I laid the strips down, three at time, as close to the diameter to accomodate their healthy length — these were very tall bacons on the farm — I watched as lines of pink appeared as if by magic running from one end to the other. The pink gave way to darker pink, the color of standard ham. So masterfully prepared was the bacon, that I ended up eating eight strips cooked, one uncooked. Now my stomach is weighty and I already feel bad for knowing that I’m not going to swim today. Maybe I’ll bring my gear with me, just in case. [Logistically, this will be hard: the pool closes from 2:15-5pm; Michelle and I are meeting for dinner. We’ll have to work things out.]

But today is History Table day. With any luck, I’ll have a large bowl of shepard’s pie for lunch.