Once relegated to the side of a hearty breakfast or sandwiched between some lettuce and tomato slices, bacon has quietly propagated itself to become one the most ubiquitous meats in existence. While the fatty, succulent pork product is doubtlessly one of the most delicious things ever to grace this planet, these days it seems as though bacon can’t simply be enjoyed in its own right. Instead, sizzling piles of the stuff seem to end up wrapped around just about everything imaginable, from hot dogs to corn on the cob. Extreme eaters (code for “people willing to eat disgusting things”) weave the stuff together to wrap around their latest unholy culinary abominations. Does your turducken (already a meat within a meat) really need to be slathered with slabs of thickly cut cured pork? Call us old fashioned, but is there any rhyme or reason to smothering bacon in chocolate and passing it off as candy? There’s a very serve bacon abuse problem sweeping through the nation— one that won’t be solved by any amount of bacon-infused vodka.
Back when you were a kid, there was nothing more comforting that a steaming bowl of tomato soup and a couple of your mom’s grilled cheese sandwiches. Imagine the look of horror on your mother’s face if you told her that you could go down the street to your local chain diner and order up a some deep fried mozzarella sticks, suspended in gooey American cheese, cradled between two slices of bread. She might have a heart attack, and frankly, eating such a dish would put you well on the road to having one as well. Like an oozing, orange river, cheese has made its way onto almost every dish imaginable. It is admittedly one of the more versatile foods in all of existence, lending itself to everything from macaroni to topping off hot slices or apple pie. But the line has to be drawn somewhere, and covering a perfectly good steak dinner with melting gobs of the dairy product certainly isn’t what it was intended for (go get yourself a Philly cheesesteak if you need some red meat with your cheddar.) Order up the six cheese mega nachos if you must, but we’d rather enjoy a portion of fresh mozzarella that won’t leave us groaning in pain on a toilet.
Don’t get us wrong, we love chocolate. Absolutely adore it, actually. We’ve got secret stashes of dark chocolate hidden at various points in our homes, just so we’re always only a few moments away from a delicious sugar fix. But when we heard that the nation’s trashiest all-you-can-eat buffet chain decided to introduce chocolate fountains in their establishments, we knew that things were getting out of control. Does anyone really need a constantly flowing lukewarm supply of chocolate to dip half eaten chicken wings in and inevitably start breeding some sort of fountain-transmitted super-disease? Come on chocolate, we’ve tried to be open-minded about all this. We overlooked your flirtatious trysts with proteins, back when you thought it might be nice to be a part of a steak sauce. We even turned a blind eye to your disgusting affair with a hot dog. The fact is, we just like you so much better when you’re all by yourself. Or nestled in with some peanut butter. Or a bit of creamy caramel. Perhaps some nougat?
While hamburgers are technically a combination of several different foods, this list would seem dishonest if we didn’t address the gross indignities this classic American dish has suffered in recent years. We’re familiar the concept that when things become bigger, they are somehow transformed into something intrinsically better. While this undoubtably sheds some light on the country’s current obesity epidemic (we’re all just a bunch of over-eating over achievers) this mantra exposes its unreliability when applied to the realm of burgers. Are there really that many people clamoring to order a footlong cheeseburger at their local fast food chain restaurant? This only supports our suspicion that the food industry is conditioning us to only eat meals in 12-inch portions. We won’t even waste time delving into the ongoing battle to create the most gigantic, inedible beef monstrosity— suffice to say, the only thing that seems to be standing in the way of a whole cow burger is a bovine-sized bun (or two really big grilled cheese sandwiches.)