In theory, more bacon makes for a better world. In practice, two recent experiences at Seattle bars prove otherwise. But it's not bacon's fault. These bacon debacles are attributable to breaking a pair of commandments of bacon so fundamental, so immutable, that they should go without saying: (1) Bacon shall not be served cold, and, especially, (2) Bacon shall not be wet, ever.
The first bacon travesty, detailed in last week's Bar Exam, involved a violation of bacon law number one, complete with thick striations of room-temperature, gelatinous bacon fat that human beings were apparently expected to chew and ingest. No need to revisit further—it was unclear whether the coldness was by policy or an accident—but if you're ordering a bacon appetizer at a bar on Capitol Hill, you might want to specify that no one wants cold bacon, ever. (Note: This is not necessary at Smith. Everyone raves about Smith's devils on horseback: dates stuffed with blue cheese wrapped in pancetta, broiled, served hot, so well-loved that sometimes they run out.)
The second fiasco falls into the meat-garnished-drink category, breaking both laws of bacon in one fell swoop. The meat-garnished drink is simultaneously unappetizing yet compelling: The optimistic omnivore/omnibibe must try it, for it just might, improbably, be the best thing ever. And a meat-garnished drink can be pleasing, if the meat is essentially on the side, in the drink-with-a-snack manner. Suite 410 downtown used to serve a cocktail with a slice of sausage from Salumi perched on the rim; Smarty Pants in Georgetown makes a bacon-tini involving Absolut Peppar decorated with one crispy bacon strip. (It's rumored that Roxy's in Fremont also serves a "sausage martini" and that by special request at Dante's in the U-District, they'll make a shot called a blue ribbon piggy: whiskey, PBR, Tabasco, and a strip-of-bacon chaser.)
What you do not want: meat immersed in your drink, especially if the drink is cold and the meat is bacon. This is the dual failure of the $10 cornhuskers Manhattan at Moxie on Lower Queen Anne. Moxie has got good drinks (a gin/chartreuse cocktail, for one) and, separately, good meat snacks (Argentine-style meatballs, mini-lamburgers). The unholy union of the cornhuskers is extra-sweetened with "corn infusion" and served with what's termed "a maple-bacon lollipop." The liquid element is shaken very vigorously (the bartender is given to patter like, "Talk to me, guys"), producing a light layer of foam. The bacon is impaled on a bamboo toothpick and coated in crystallized sugar. Emerging from the foam, it looks lumpy; it looks brown. It tastes like cold, wet, candied bacon.