The fact that this is even in my house reflects a fundamental difference between my husband and I.

I am a vegetarian. My husband, for health reasons, is trying to be vege-near-ian. So he has filled our fridge with various meat substitutes.

As a vegetarian of the bleeding heart variety, I feel no desire to eat pretend meat. I do not miss it. I do not want it. (I do not like green eggs and ham!).

The most appalling of the various faux-meats now populating our freezer is this: Fakin’ Bacon.

Wrong for so many reasons, not the least of which is the fake ribbons of fat, and the freaky resemblance to my son’s pretend plastic food.

The product review:

The flavor was surprisingly pleasant mainly because it was very salty. Nothing wrong with that. But the texture. Oh, the texture. So wrong. Floppy, chewy and simultaneously grainy and insubstantial. A little greasy.

Did it kill me? Obviously not (at least not yet). Will I eat it again? It’s hard to imagine a circumstance in which this would happen.