I don’t like red meat. I don’t like eating cows, even a little bit. There is no cut, grade or marinade which makes cow meat appealing to me. I’m OK with cows, in general. They’re not scary and come in pretty colors and are usually the protagonist in cartoons. They smell bad, though. And they attract flies. I don’t feel too strongly about pork either way; it’s like an 80/20. I don’t eat it. Ever. But that 20% represents bacon. Jim Gaffigan is a saint and a psychic and nailed the vegetarian’s secret desire for bacon right on its shameful head. It smells divine. It looks terrific on a sandwich. It rounds off a friend’s Moons Over My Hammy. I haven’t tasted bacon in 24 years, but I remember it. I ate it as a kid. It was chewy.