There's a new law in town. Irish bacon may have spoiled me, I dunno. American bacon is just never gonna be as good anymore.
Unlike yer everyday American bacon, which comes in thin strips streaked with fat, Irish bacon, aka rashers, are big ol' slabs of thick cut pork, so lean that you can't even fry eggs in the grease left in the pan after 'em. But it looks so gorgeous as its frying, it curls up and ripples, swelling with goodness.
My friend Simon and I acquired some after I found out that he'd never eaten a grilled bacon and cheese and tomato sammich, but we saved the rest for breakfast. I made the bacon, he made some lovely fried eggs with a glorious Irish cheddar, and we ate it all with toast and tea. A wonderful way to start the day.