The only thing I know about my future husband is that he will not be vegetarian.
You could say I’m a bacon aficionado.
When I stumbled upon “Sizzl” by Oscar Mayer in my app store suggestions, I nearly cried tears of joy. The app’s oh so appropriate slogan is, “Find your bacon lover.” Just typing it out in fat, juicy capitals gets my arteries clogged up.
Sizzl is maintained and operated by the Kraft Heinz Company, and you can find more information on www.findbaconlove.com.
I downloaded the app immediately. The first question it asked me was which kind of bacon I love the most — pork, turkey or both. This question confused me. I like bacon-bacon, not that freaky turkey stuff that hides behind a curtain of faux bacon flavor. I selected pork.
After this, it asked me which type I preferred — “thick cut, because more is more,” “hardwood smoked for a really long time,” “lower sodium” or “maple and sweet like me.”
Now, the low sodium option sounded like a doctor’s order and the thick cut choice didn’t appeal to me since I enjoy my bacon thin and extra crispy. I went with the hardwood smoke route.
Next question: “If a friend tried to serve you bacon flavored with liquid smoke, you’d …” I think I’d barf.
Then Sizzl asked me how I like my bacon cooked — “chewy,” “crispy” or “burnt.” Crispy or GTFO.
Lastly, there was a simulation-type question: “If you’re on a date and there’s one strip of bacon left, you… …” a) “take it, obviously,” b) “generously give it away” or c) “split it.”
Here’s what separates the liars from the true bacon-lovers. There is no way on this planet that I would give up the last piece of bacon, my one true indulgence, and I’d be so salty — literally — if I had to share. My tree house — if I had a tree house — would say “bacon takers only.”
Once I had my profile set up — with a ba(e)con caption underneath my name — I started playing a tinder-esque game of pressing a heart made of bacon or the X if I didn’t find the prospective match appealing.
I was getting guys from everywhere — England, Austria, Sweden, the United States (a lot of guys from Oregon), amongst other destinations, which proves bacon is universally loved.
A few minutes into my conquest for grease-splattering love, I ran into a fellow named Lars. He was 70, which concerned me. Good bacon dies young.
As I swiped, I saw witty profiles that said “bacon care of business,” “your mum and I met each other on a bacon app,” “don’t go bacon my heart” and the truly incredible “Ron Swanson is my spirit animal.”
Then there was this dude who totally won: “I used to drive the Oscar Mayer Wienermobile … obviously I had to get this app.” Uh, John from New Castle, Kentucky, can I have your old job? That would look amazing on my LinkedIn.
So, fellow Hoosiers, from the bottom of my frying pan, I really suggest you check out this app so we can Netflix and bacon together — as long as you let me have the last piece.
This article was originally published as a column for the Indiana Daily Student on 24 September 2015.