A Holly, Jolly, Bacon-y Christmas

Recently, our good friend Lorraine wrote a post on Facebook about bacon jam.

What’s bacon jam, you ask?

Well, according to the website that Lorraine mentioned (skilletstreetfood.com), to make the “jam” (it sounds more like a chutney to me), they “take a big bunch of really really good bacon, and render it down...add a bunch of spices..onions, etc..and let it simmer for about 6 hours…give it a quick puree, and blast chill it…and you have bacon jam.”

Oh, my. I had to have some. More importantly, I had to get Iwanski some. It sounded right up his alley.

So I hopped on the website and ordered me up some bacon jam. Normally I would have tried to keep it a secret from Iwanski, so I could surprise him later, but I couldn’t wait. I told him about the order, and he and I both eagerly awaited the arrival of bacon-y goodness.

Five days later, it had arrived. Iwanski called me at work to tell me about it.

“Well, the bacon jam came today,” he said, “but the jar was already open, and it leaked all over the inside of the box. It smells awful.”

“Oh no!” I exclaimed. Apparently after a jar of bacon jam is opened, it has to be refrigerated. And after five days in the mail, that stuff was NASTY.

After he smelled that stench, I was afraid that Iwanski wouldn’t even want to try the fresh stuff. (And let’s face it—I wanted to try it as much as he did!) But undaunted, Iwanski e-mailed the company to request a replacement jar.

Later that night, I went out to dinner with my friends Jonathan and Liane. We exchanged Christmas presents and began opening them.

As I reached into the gift bag from Liane, I pulled out something wrapped in tissue paper.

I unwrapped it, and I gasped…

BACON JAM!

I was stunned and sat there with my eyes and mouth wide open. “Oh my gosh!” I said, with a huge smile on my face. “If you only knew—I have to tell you a story…” And I told her and Jonathan my tale of bacon jam woe. They were both amazed, too, at the crazy coincidence.

“I have to call my husband,” I said.

So I called Iwanski, and he was really surprised, too. “It’s a gift of the bacon magi!” he exclaimed.

“It’s a Christmas bacon miracle!” I declared.

I still can’t believe that happened. Oh, and the verdict on the bacon jam? I haven’t tried it yet, but Iwanski said that it was pretty good—maybe a little too sweet for his taste—but that means I’ll probably love it.

I think the Universe often delivers us these little miracles that we call “coincidences.” And I think God himself (or herself) had a huge laugh as he/she concocted this little bacon miracle.