Chicken-Fried Bacon (in Two Acts)

Chicken-fried bacon achieved.

I should put this in context. This was a rough day. We drove from New Orleans to Snook, TX, which would be a good, long day of travel on the best of days. This was not the best of days. It would appear that the majority of Louisiana and Texas is currently under construction, and that clear labeling of things like, oh, lanes ending and merging, is considered optional. In addition to this delight, it stormed all day, and visibility was iffy at best. And just when things appeared to clear, we hit Houston rush hour traffic, which is apparently one of the lower circles of Hell. So, we were pretty hungry when we finally found Snook, TX (pop. 568).

Act I

We reach Sodalak's Original Country Inn, which is in a small free-standing building enigmatically labeled "Steak House." We check our info and verify that this is, indeed, the place. We enter and take our seats, anxiously awaiting the waitress with our menus (we have not eaten since breakfast). After perusing our menus for awhile, the waitress comes to take our order. We already know we will each be ordering a plate of chicken-fried bacon as an appetizer, but Kurt wants some clarification on how big the "small" sirloin is for the main course of his meal. "24 oz.," says the waitress. Um... what? "The extra-small is 16 oz. and each size goes up a half pound from that." We glance back at the menu, noting that, in addition to the extra-small and the small, they also have a medium, large, extra-large, and "two-person." I don't know who those two people are, but I don't want them eating at our house. Kurt decides to order the extra-small steak.

Some time later, I see the waitress carrying two large plates heaping with what, from a distance, looks like a pile of fried chicken. After a fraction of a second I realize what's happening. "Oh, dear God," I say, and Kurt looks around just in time to see the waitress descending upon our table. She sets the heaping plates of chicken-fried bacon in front of us, and it is then that I remember that this stuff is also served with a bowl of white gravy. We realize at this point that we probably should have ordered a single plate and shared it, but we soldier on undaunted. It's good. It's really good. "Someone is going to Hell for this," says Kurt.

Act II

I have three pieces of battered bacon left on my plate. I am beginning to doubt the wisdom of this, and I haven't even seen my main course yet. I eat one more piece and realize that, yes, all good things must come to an end. Kurt finishes his bacon, despite his better instincts. We know we will pay for this later.

The main course comes, and I am grateful that I opted to forgo the steak. One side of Kurt's plate is piled high with fried okra, and the other side is completely obliterated by an enormous slab of meat. Kurt eyes the fried okra with pain and terror. He can't manage to put another fried anything in his mouth, and the steak is more than enough to tackle. We both make Herculean efforts, but neither of us can come close to eating half of what is on our plates. By now, we are both in pain, both wondering what havoc we have unleashed upon our digestive systems, and both making mental notes to find the Zantec and Tums when we get to the hotel. This could get ugly.

Epilogue

Yes, it was worth it, and yes, we highly recommend it with the following caveats in mind (bolded to impress upon you how important this is):

1. Go hungry, or don't go at all.
2. Do not, no matter how hungry you think you are, request an entire order for each person in your party. A single order of chicken-fried bacon will feed 2-3 people. We are very serious about this!
3. Unless you are a Sumo wrestler, you will want the extra-small sirloin. Maybe the small, at most.
4. Do get a salad. You will be so desperate for roughage, you will gnaw a tree.

Now, if you'll excuse us, we need to sit very still for the next 10-20 hours.

- Colette