So you can’t live in the south unless you have an occasional craving for a few pieces of crisp bacon.  With a side of grits, maybe?

I awoke this morning to the smell of cooked bacon.  It is cool enough now that T and I can leave a few windows open to enjoy the cool mornings.  I never thought that I would discover our neighbors culinary habits, especially when it’s something as wonderful as BACON!
I know they have small children next door but, my first inclination is to sneak over there and pry the bacon from their little hands.
I am a humane person so I will let that go.  That and my hair looks like a rats nest and I think I have my t-shirt on inside out.  Hey its Saturday!  I will just cook my own.
I like maple smoked thick cut bacon cooked in the oven on wax paper at 375 until crisp.
I know this method could be appalling to some, (No iron cast iron skillet?) but I like this method for it does not smell up the kitchen.  I can always depend on every single piece being cooked perfectly.  
Quote of the day:

“Friends are the Bacon Bits in the Salad Bowl of Life.”
~unknown(although I wish it was Sir Francis Bacon)

Question of the day:
What  do Italians call what we know of as bacon?
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