Hark! Half an Elvis Peanut Butter Sandwich


Bacon is overrated for a good reason; it’s such a beautiful piece of meat that it ascends to an almost mythical station. And with a legume it can complete the powerful Elvis peanut butter sandwich.

Back to bacon’s impossible awesomeness — bacon can both, not live up to and at the same time, surpass its own hype. If pork had its own aisle in the Elysian Fields, it would be almost exclusively stocked with more bacon than anything else. 

Bacon is a magically crispy, salty meat that tweaks the brain the way I imagine chocolate affects the women in chocolate commercials. Bacon really is the stuff of unicorn eyelashes and fairy farts. 

So, I realize I need to tread lightly here; bacon talk can be weaponized, especially over social media. Even between bacon fanatics; everything might go well until someone brings up “uncured vs. cured” or actually expressing enjoyment in turkey bacon…Then watch your post race for the bottom in the comment section. Religion or politics would be a politer conversation.


Want to be an asshole on a dull day? Mention to your followers that you have never quite gotten bacon right and kindly ask your followers for directions on the best way to cook it. 

Say that you have been desperately trying to get your bacon to the point of crispy, just before burnt. If you want to kick the hive even further mention that it has been suggested to you that microwaving bacon is the far superior method and you are thinking of buying a dedicated bacon microwave. Oh, and you bought that “as seen on tv” bacon microwaving tray.

Just be prepared for everything to go south, fast.

The only way to ruin bacon is to cook it wrong, so it’s pretty hard to prepare bacon incorrectly. Just stick it on a baking sheet with a sheet of foil, set your oven to 350 degrees and let the magic happen for about 15-20 minutes. 

Towards the end, it’s best to check in on your sizzling pork homies to make sure they’re not hurtling over the edge from limp to burnt. It can happen fast, so be vigilant with your bacon watching. 

Yes, you could undoubtedly fry them in a pan; obviously, I am not trying to be too controversial. It’s okay if you like bacon grease to splatter over everything. Go for it.


Microwaving is…the worst. The only cooking method more awful for bacon would be boiling, and that’s frankly absurd, so don’t microwave your bacon. Yes, by microwaving you get your bacon to “cooked” faster; but what are you trying to win a race here? Do you really need bacon taste in your mouth that fast? It is breakfast for the love of God if you have time to eat bacon you have time to cook the shit right.

Yes, by microwaving you get your bacon to “cooked” faster; but what are you trying to win a race here? Do you really need bacon taste in your mouth that fast?

Perhaps you prefer your bacon, a smoking mangled chewy disaster.   Why not throw your goddamn beef jerky into the microwave at the same time then set your house on fire and collect the insurance so you can move to Sweden where they make bacon in tube form. You won’t even need a microwave for fast bacon you can just brush your teeth with Baconost, there you go you monster.

Baconost is delightful in grits by the way.

So, this is where we reach the tread-lightly portion where I tell you it’s actually quite enchanting to take your “divine as it is” and stick that between two pieces of toast smeared with peanut butter. 


Most know that Elvis’ sandwich du jour was peanut butter, banana, bacon, and honey… fried.  The gallbladder murdering sandwich is decent but always seemed more of a “can you believe what I just ate” rather than a true homage to the angel blessed slice of pork belly. 

Sure the ingredients belong to the same relative mealtime, yet they hail from locations at the far end of most kitchens. It is almost as if some pothead woke ravenously from sleep and wanted to eat the entire kitchen; let’s just take this shit from everywhere and make a hunger eviscerating sandwich.

The Half-Elvis is already better than a BLT, it’s got the king of rock and roll in the name. Okay, I’m not entirely sure the name for a peanut butter and bacon sandwich is “Half-Elvis.” My father called it that, so…

And it doesn’t suffer from utilizing your entire kitchen as with the full Elvis nor does it require raiding your salad loving spouse’s stash of lettuce and tomato. All you need is a toaster, two slices of bread, bacon, peanut butter, and a little bit of patience (DON’T MICROWAVE THE BACON).

My first Half-Elvis came as reward for not wetting my bed when I was around 4 toward the end of my bed-wetting career. My parents attempted nipping the bed-wetting issue by incentivizing “dry mornings” with morning toast adorned with a lit candle. “Congratulations!” 

It was a Saturday morning, and my father walked in with the sandwich on a small plate, a lit birthday candle directly in the center. Instead of just a candle adorned slice of toast, as would happen on a busy weekday, this was a sandwich. “I promise you will like this.” 


The toast heated the peanut butter to a gooey liquid that dripped off of a long slice of bacon protruding from inside.

After some slight aversion, I tried it. As weird as the sandwich seemed, it had started out with a lit goddamn birthday candle on it. How could I not eat this thing?

I liked it.

The salt of the bacon and peanut butter play well together to form a meatier, slightly sweet experience. And the peanut butter acts as glue for the sandwich architecture which holds from initial bite to last. As opposed to a BLT where you take one bite, and the whole damn sandwich explodes all over your plate. 

If you haven’t tried peanut butter and bacon, I highly suggest it.  There are worse things you could do with your bacon, like sticking it in a microwave.

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