So the other evening, Bobbi fried up some bacon & egg sandwiches, and cooked a few slices of my pancetta to throw on them. That was the first time I'd eaten it fried up like bacon, believe it or not.
Oh. My. God. It was like bacon, only baconier; the platonic ideal of nomminess.
Yesterday afternoon I fried up the remainder and ate it on crispbreads with provolone. I'm going back to Fresh Market today for more.