…things like this end up in my house. Seriously, what the hell was I thinking?
Okay, back up. There have been rumblings on the internet for the past few months about this supposed bacon-flavored vodka that was soon to hit liquor store shelves. My immediate reaction, along with (I presume) most other semi-discriminating imbibers, was a resounding “WTF?” I’ve seen a lot of crazy shit over the years, but this? BACON-FLAVORED VODKA? Huh? Seriously, HUH? I was pretty sure such weirdness would never come anywhere near my lips (kinda like Stevie Nicks, but that’s another story for another time, sigh).
On the flipside, the thirst for new and exciting frontiers is the very thing that propels drinkers like me forward. If my alcohol-soaked mind weren’t open, I’d have never ventured beyond Coors Light and Miller Genuine Draft all those years ago and developed a passion for microbrews. On that same note, I might never have tried that first Bloody Mary (Christmas Eve ’99 at Outback Steakhouse; thanks Donovan!). Further still, I might never have ascended the tequila ladder and discovered the soothing glory of Jose Cuervo’s Reserva de la Familia. My point? To discover new and delicious libations, one must step outside of one’s comfort zone every once in a while.
And hey, the concept of bacon-flavored vodka is so crazy… well, it just might work (I fondly recalled Yazi, the ginger-infused vodka that captured my heart and liver a couple of years back). You see? I was already rationalizing it. The accursed bacon-flavored vodka (“Bakon Vodka”) wasted little time forcing its greasy way into my consciousness. I could not, would not rest until I had tried it. God help me.
A week ago last Friday, I checked the Oregon Liquor Commission website. There was one bottle available within ten miles of me. I ventured out into traffic and rain to the West Linn Liquor Store to acquire it, to plum its porcine depths, to find out once and for all if it was utter bliss, or utter shit.
Hey kids, guess what? It’s utter shit. I am a drooling moron for ever hoping otherwise.
I tried it straight first, in my favorite shot glass. The pungent scent almost made me gag (ever tried Bacon Salt? It smells kinda like that…. artificial, as if harvested from a ninth-generation pig clone in an evil scientist’s lab). Pressing on, I sipped from the shot glass. I shuddered, then swallowed the rest. Words can’t accurately describe the taste, but believe me… it’s awful. Imagine a rancid pork tenderloin marinated in lighter fluid.
Realizing that I was now stuck with an entire bottle of the heinous stuff, I tried it in a Bloody Caesar (basically a Bloody Mary, with Clamato instead of tomato juice). Nope, no dice. Still gross.
The only conceivable application I can come up with for this hideous, villianous concoction is as a gag gift. Or hey, maybe it could serve as a punishment for losing a drinking game at a party. In a pinch, I suppose PITA could use it to make molotov cocktails to protest the mistreatment of pigs. Otherwise…. There is no good reason for this monstrosity to exist at all. It’s like a practical joke against well-meaning vodka enthusiasts, and I fell for it, hook, line and fatback.
I’d like to think I’ve learned something from this experience, but like my sick fascination with dirty martinis (I keep going back to them every few months, and they make me sick each time)… well, I’ve probably learned nothing. The next time some bizarre new alcoholic product appears, I’ll likely jump in to try it.
Got a flame? I’m your moth.
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