Bloodthirsty, human-loathing hogs would hate its origins but would certainly chow down on this mouth-watering slab of nourishment and nosh, sinking their teeth into the perfectly fried and crackling slab of salty and preserved pig back.
Bacon, as my above, abridged definition describes, is exactly that, a fattening slice of swine, whose devourers either prefer it gloriously crunchy (fried more) or succulently flabby (fried less).
My aim in describing this delicious piece of greasy grub in both distasteful and tasteful ways is to display my ambivalence for the common breakfast or burger additive. Ever since I was young, I knew it sailed delectably, but I also knew it sunk unhealthily. For this reason, I have a like-hate relationship for the foodstuff. I’m not entirely opposed to it, but I would rather avoid it.
And that’s why pigs matter (aren’t they cute?!)