Love, True Love (or...wuv, twu wuv)

In the interest of Valentine's Day weekend, it's important to talk about love, right? I love, love, love, LOVE Valentine's Day. Sure, we can talk about all the commercialism, and how it's just a ploy to get flowers, cards and candy sold. We can talk about how if we loved one another, why any random Tuesday isn't good enough to express our love. Of course it is. In fact, I have a hubby who brings me flowers and cards and does little sweet things all the time. But, boxes of conversation hearts and flowers at the store bring me joy and make me feel all tingly inside and it's just a sweet day that reminds people, en masse to be sweet for the heck of it anyway; friends, family, lovers, everyone. I like it. I'm a mushball for it. What's wrong with everyone joining together all at once to be sweet on one day too? Nothing in my book.

And, in the interest of being a mushball, look at what my supportive mushball was willing to eat. Well, I guess, I should say, what he "tried" to eat.

What do you suppose this is? Does the "cooked" version help you identify it at all?

Yes folks, it's "bacon." Well, it's what I'm deeming fakon. I'm having very little trouble missing chicken, steak, beef, et all. But, man do I miss the lovely processed stuff like pepperoni, breakfast sausage and yummy stuff like that. Heck, I'd crave a piece of bologna if you waved it in front of me and I can't tell you how long it's been since I've had a piece of that disgusting crap. So, when I saw this stuff, I thought, "huzzah! Perhaps I can get my sizzlin', oh so salty, fatty fix!"

Um, Bryon's taste test reaction may sum up the taste.

The idea was to chop it up and put it in the salad we had with dinner (Bryon's as a side salad, mine filled with yummy tofu). The whole plate of it, and the rest that we didn't cook, hit the trash. Actually, someone (crazy boy below) ate a number of pieces because he was fooled and thought it was delicious. I thought it tasted like someone flavored cheap potato chips with bacon flavored oil. Terrible. Just terrible.

Bryon thought that since I was the "crazy person" willing to subject myself to this torturous food to begin with, I was the one that should have to stand over the stove to prepare it and he refused to be a part of it. Nice, huh? Love. I love that they look like weird fruit roll ups. If only there was smell-o-vision. They sort of smell like gourmet dog treats because truly, they have a bacon smell, but like there is just something not quite right about the bacon, like it's just a leeeetle off.

Bryon was also wildly amused by the marinating rack of lamb right next to the fakon cooking. Ahh, amusement. Admittedly, it was a little funny. We are making a pretty odd pair lately at the table (when we are at the table together that is).

Know what tasted better? Tater Tots with ketchup the next day while my Valentines and I watched Iron Giant. Putting up with Mommy for the wild diet she's imposing on the family, letting her stink up the house with fakon smell, still snuggling up to her to watch a movie and not thinking she's lame when she makes a ketchup heart on your plate of tater tots, now that is true love.