Strips of meat with layers of fat in between trying to lift off the surface of the skillet in small pockets as they make a sizzling noise is a delightful childhood memory for me that was only enhanced by the meaty, fatty smell and satisfying taste of bacon that followed. This was not common occurrence but was distinctly present in an otherwise low pork childhood diet - family members even remember the small neighborhood store where it came from. A few years ago, this memory changed in an unexpected way when I had a small fork full of rich meat that melted in the mouth.
