Ladies and gentlemen, I bring you. . .microwave bacon! Like so many other things, this concept came to me due to a happy accident. Here’s the scene: having found myself home alone for two weeks, on the first morning I set out to fix myself some bacon and eggs. No sooner had I fired up the burner then it sputtered and died: out of propane. Now, please understand, there are two propane tanks outside my house, and the second one was still full; all that was needed was some complex movements with some sophisticated tools—a process I had stubbornly refused to learn because I didn’t want to ever be the one who had to do it. I began sadly to put away the bacon and consider a bowl of cold cereal when I noticed the microwave. I looked from the package of bacon to the microwave, and back again, not unlike a cave person who is finally making the connection between dry twigs and the sparks that sometimes fly during her flint carving sessions.

And I am here to tell you, bacon cooked in the microwave is delicious and crispy and takes all of two minutes. What is not involved in cooking bacon in the microwave is the tiny white-hot needles of grease striking my skin, or the huge quantity of artery-killing viscosity that must be later scraped out of the pan and somehow disposed of with clogging the sink drain or attracting bears. Side note: am I now ingesting all that extra grease? Who cares?

Anyhoo, bacon in the microwave takes two minutes instead of twenty, I don’t get burned, I don’t have to keep turning it over obsessively, I don’t need to place a large cast iron object on it to make sure it cooks evenly, and my multiple glass jars of bacon grease that I keep on my counter for months at a time are gradually giving way to a couple of paper towels that go straight into the garbage can. And by the way, microwave scrambled eggs are also to die for.

So, is this cheating? If I do not suffer for my art, is it still art? I am reminded of the words of an old friend, a Tsimshian carver with a dry sense of humor. One day my husband and I were visiting him in his carving shed while he started roughing out a totem pole using a chainsaw. He must have noticed my thoughtful expression because he adopted a serious look and asked, “Do you know why my grandfather didn’t use a chainsaw when he was carving?”

“No,” I answered. “Why didn’t your grandfather use a chainsaw when he was carving?”

Our friend grinned and replied, “because he didn’t have one.”

*******************************************************

For your further edification:

Microwave Scrambled Eggs & Bacon| How to make breakfast recipe | Student – YouTube

Tsimshian – New World Encyclopedia