It's bacon.
The act of eating it is usuaslly anti-climatic after this experience - though truthfully, there's not really such a thing as bad bacon except it's really undercooked, but the smell is just so overwhelming for me. If I were a superhero, this would be my weakness/kryptonite/Achille's heel/etc. A supervillain lures me into a kitchen with a few rashers of bacon frying up and I collapse to the floor in a state of semi-conscious bacon-induced euphoria.
I'm saying this without any sarcasm, either. I. Love. Bacon. How do I cook it? I like it baked - lay strips on a cookie-type cooling rack, placed over a baking dish (a casserole), then bake at 400-425 for a total of 15 minutes, give or take. May have to flip it with some tongs after 6-8 minutes. The fat drips off into a pan and is easily removed. You can use this fat to make anything my disgusting little fat-clogged heart desires - if you make a grilled bacon-apple-cheese sandwich, use the bacon drippings instead of butter (for reals - you'll thank me after you eat it), or use it to sweat/saute onions in a sauce or risotto instead of olive oil. Risotto cooked with bacon grease? And then add little chunks of bacon at the end (or pancetta if you want to be all fancypants)? Oh, man. I'm through after that.
