Come closer. Yes, you. Closer. I have something I want to whisper in your ear.
"It's bacon week."
If those are not the three most titillating words you have ever heard, I'm not sure what you tell you. Few meats invite such unbridled giddiness and pleasure as expertly cooked, perfectly crisp bacon. The smell of it fills the house with the distinct aroma of happiness, and poor Frank the Dog (pictured) starts running amok like she's been sniffing glue. (Way better than those candles Gwyneth Paltrow has been hawking.)
Hello Friends,
I am penning this message from sweltering Oaxaca, Mexico where we have taken a few days to eat, drink and remind ourselves that we are more than rapid email writing Muppets with a caffeine addiction.
The food is simple and radiant, making me crave the bounty of summer, though it's still a long way out.
