I ATE THE BACON
Cindy Maddera
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The first time I went to Heirloom, I ordered a biscuit sandwich without realizing it came with bacon on it unless you modify it. When my sandwich was set in front of me, I grimaced. I pulled the bacon slices off my sandwich and just set them to the side. Then I stared at the bacon as I took a bite of egg, cheese and biscuit. Then I thought “I’ll just take one bite. It does seem like really good bacon.” I took a bite and set the piece down. I continued to eat my biscuit, egg and cheese sandwich while eyeing the bacon just sitting there on my plate. I took another bite of bacon. Then another and another until I had finished that piece of bacon. I finished my biscuit sandwich and then ate that second piece of bacon.
After we had Chris’s Celebration of Life service, I left Misti’s house in Oklahoma City to drive back to KCMO. I stopped at a Kolache place near her house and ordered a donut and two kolachies. When I took a bite of the first kolache, I realized it was filled with meat. I shrugged and then shoved both kolachies into my mouth like a starving person. I remember reading stories submitted by readers to Vegetarian Times a long time ago. The topic was dealing with meat cravings. One woman wrote in and said that once a year she drives herself to KFC and orders a bucket of chicken. She goes through the drive-thru and then parks her car in the parking lot of the shopping center next door. Then she eats all of the chicken in the bucket, all alone in a deserted parking lot. I read her confession and felt sad for this woman. I could imagine her glancing around furtively like a wild animal while she gnawed on a chicken bone and worrying about someone she knows seeing her in this act of carnivorism. I pictured her doing this in the dark and if you shined a flashlight into her car, she would cover face and yell “DON’T LOOK AT ME!” That’s what eating the meat-filled kolachie felt like. DON’T LOOK AT ME! I’VE JUST HAD THE WORST TWO MONTHS OF MY WHOLE LIFE! It was part shame and partly a defensive reaction to my actions. I felt guilt for eating this poor animal. I felt stupid for not paying attention to what I was ordering. I was a poser, a hypocrite. And at the same time, I didn’t really give a fuck about any of it. So what if I just ate two (what was basically) hotdogs and cheese stuffed into a pastry dough. Chris is dead. There are worse things than a vegetarian/pescatarian eating meat.
As I stepped up to the counter at Heirloom on Saturday to place my usual breakfast order, I noticed the special menu out of the corner of my eye. I paused and saw that they were offering avocado toast on a slice of their fancy sourdough, topped with an artisanal goat cheese and fried egg. I thought “oh! I love avocado toast!” and then I placed my order and settled in at the counter with my Fortune Cookie journal. A few minutes later the owner came out with my plate and set it in front of me saying “enjoy! It’s good to see your face in here today.” I smiled and said “thanks!” and then looked down at my plate to see two slices of bacon sitting next to my avocado toast. I made a face and thought “Oh no…I’m going to eat that bacon.” And I did. I didn’t cram it all into my mouth as quickly as I could as if trying to hide evidence. I savored that bacon, taking deliberate bites and mindfully chewing. Bacon meditation. Which could totally be a thing. It was good bacon from a good ethical farm and it would have been a horrible waste and dishonor to the pig who sacrificed his life so that we could eat him to not eat the bacon.
I even licked the grease from my fingers and as I did this I gave a subtle little nod of acknowledgment to Chris’s presence lurking over my left shoulder.