Can you guess what I gave Rocco yesterday? Candies? Flowers? Lingerie? An oversized baby pink greeting card? A blow job? Hells no! I made my husband a bacon bouquet for Valentines Day.
I fucking rule.
I’ll just wait here while you ladies curse your lack of me-ness and you fellas compose love poems to lure me away from Rocco’s side. (Note to fellas: You should probably know I don’t much care for poetry. I prefer shiny things and alcoholic beverages. Stop writing poetry and get me some of those things. Mad Dog with glitter flakes does NOT count. Unless I’ve already consumed three bottles of wine. Then it might fly.)
Ok, ok, now that the applause and adoration has waned slightly, I’ll show you exactly how it’s done.
Second, you need to have a little free time and a lot of confidence in your husband’s cholesterol meds. Check and check.
Third, you need supplies. Now the originator of the Broquet (Sarah Tisdale) includes a hammer and nails in her materials list. Normally I’m all about stealing Rocco’s tools, but I just couldn’t see wasting a perfectly good muffin tin. So I’m going to show you my lazy/cheap method.
Shit you need:
A roasting pan
Some sort of grill you can put in said roasting pan
Plastic forks, bamboo spears, or chopsticks
Ass tons of bacon
Don’t panic. I’ve got pictures below so you can probably ignore all my nonsensical drivel and just skip to the illustrations. However, there are no pictures of vaginas, so if haven’t had your daily quota of vag references, you should probably go ahead and read the text, too. By the by, you should also probably go ahead and preheat your oven to 350 degrees.
You need some contraption to bake the bacon without it wallowing in its own drippings. Sarah did that by puncturing muffin tins. I’ve never been wronged by a muffin tin so I got all MacGyver on my kitchen’s ass and draped a cooling rack over my roasting pan. (That doesn’t sound very bad ass. MacGyver would have done something much more impressive. Let me think a moment…) Then I ripped a kitchen towel with my teeth and tied it around my thigh to slow the blood loss. (Much better.)
Take a piece of bacon and wrap it around your finger. Ignore the fact that it feels like you’re giving someone a prostate exam. Remove your finger and skewer with a toothpick. (The bacon, not your finger. Otherwise you really are going to have to find a tourniquet to control blood loss.)
Once you’ve skewered all your slices (I used two pounds), artfully arrange them on whatever contraption you’ve rigged up for baking. Then bake them. (Duh.) It took about thirty minutes in my jenky ass oven. (My oven may or may not have been mistakenly turned off during one point in the baking process.) At the risk of divulging all my secrets, I’ll admit I flipped the buds after fifteen minutes to encourage even baking.
After the bacon buds have reached your desired degree of doneness (say that five times fast), place them on some paper towels to cool and drain. When they’re cool enough to handle, remove the toothpicks (from the bacon, not your finger) and assemble your stalks. I used the plastic forks that the delivery guys insist on including with our take out. Sarah used bamboo skewers. I bet you could use old dry-cleaning hangers if you really wanted to. I wouldn’t want to, but if that’s what you’ve got – use ’em. I’m not going to judge. (much)
On a flat surface, first lay down a piece of tin foil, then a sheet of paper (wax, parchment, whatevs). Arrange your stalks in varying heights. Wrap the tinfoil and paper tight. Then secure with a ribbon. TaDAH!
I’m pretty sure there’s an old Chinese proverb that says, “The quickest way to a man’s heart is to have a doctor crack open his chest.”