Serious Eats included this meaty number in a round up.
I cooked a pound of bacon, and allowed it to cool before storing in the fridge. Oscar was completely wowed by how our place smelled. I liked the smell, too, and was looking forward to eating the bacon later that week with sandwiches, salads and eggs.
It seemed like I was trying to relax as much as possible that night. Eating bacon was a source of comfort. I had a big first day the next morning, starting work on a project that would last a few months. I was dreading an early start the next day. I wanted time to take a bath, read the papers, make and drink coffee and eat breakfast. I set my alarm for 6 a.m., with the goal of leaving no later than 7 a.m.
The next morning, Oscar shook me and asked, "What time is it?" I jumped out of bed and started howling. It was 7:08 a.m. This was awful, and I was starting to panic and sweat thinking about being late for my first day. I quickly realized I wouldn't even be able to take a bath or shower, given how late I already was. As I moved around, I realized my hair really smelled like bacon. A lot. Sure, that's a nice smell for home, but not something I wanted to share at the office. As I sped down 101, I kept getting bacon whiffs.
The folks on my new project probably thought I was weird that first day. Rather than expose them to my bacony smells, I would lean way back whenever someone greeted me or came close. I didn't nod my head yes or no in a meeting, for fear it would trigger puffs of bacon smells from my long hair. Just gave loud mmmm-hmmms instead. I'm not sure if anyone actually noticed the bacon smells I brought that first day. No way I was going to pipe up and ask.
When I told friends about it, the husband's eyes bugged out and he asked in a semi-shocked tone, "What do you mean, you smelled like bacon from the night before?!" He had pictured Oscar slathering bacon on me, in some sort of sex play. Uh, no.