Mid to late 30s ne’er-do-well, living in Cincinnati and doing things during the day I’m not sure are worth discussing.
Just so we’re clear, a couple of things:
I rarely eat out in Cincinnati. If you ask me where to find the best BLT or the smokinest BBQ or the Pork Belly at this or that restaurant, it might be a little awkward for both of us.
Sidenote: Memphis is a different story. Ask me about Memphis and I can rattle off a dozen places to celebrate All Things Pigalicous, not to mention how to get to the Peabody Ducks or the best coffeehouse ever or the best place to listen to live music or how to distract the Graceland security staff in order to look for toenails in the plush Jungle Room carpeting.
Anyway. This hardly represents an endorsement, but I tend to buy Bluegrass Farms bacon at the supermarket, or the thick cut variety from Kroeger & Sons @ Findlay Market. If I’m feeling sassy, I’ll order something from the Grateful Palette and use the packing material as air freshener.
I cook my bacon on a cast-iron skillet. I know the “correct” way is to put it in an oven over a pasty-rack, but a skillet gives you a good sear and lots of fun bacon grease with which to cook flatbread.
That’s, uhhh, about it.