Celebrity chef Michael Symon thinks everything goes better with bacon. I tend to agree, although I'm not sure I'm up for the chocolate covered bacon I once saw him prepare.
Bacon happens to be the first food I learned to cook. Back when I was about six years old, I used to beg for bacon at breakfast, lunch, and supper. Finally, my long-suffering mother broke down and taught me how to cook it myself so that she wouldn't have to deal with my constant demands for what the USDA defines as "the cured belly of a swine carcass." Such an inelegant description of ambrosia!
Since this article is intended to instruct on the cooking of bacon rather than on its character, I won't go into the different types of bacon (back bacon, jowl bacon, cottage bacon, middle bacon, streaky bacon), or the different curing processes (sugar cured, applewood smoked, hickory smoked, unsmoked). Let's just assume we're dealing with ordinary strips, slices, or rashers of good old grocery store bacon.
First, pick out a good quality bacon. In the US, Oscar Mayer is probably the top of the line national brand, but there are lots and lots of other fine quality national and regional brands to choose from. Local and store brands are an "iffy" proposition. Publix has an excellent store brand bacon, but I have not found many other store brands that compare favorably to the more expensive name brands.
Case in point: I have a relative who is absolutely, positively convinced that store brands and economy brands are every bit as good as name brands. I can't convince him that saving pennies on the cheapest stuff he can buy sometimes winds up costing more in the long run. So when I went shopping with him, I bought a pound of Hormel Black Label bacon and he bought his usual cut rate brand. I cooked up batches of both and laid them out side by side on a plate. My bacon had minimal shrinkage. Each piece cooked up to a length of between five and six inches. It retained a nice even strip of lean meat throughout. It cooked evenly and had a wonderful, rich flavor. His bacon shrank down to little pieces of curled up fat barely three inches in length with practically no lean meat on them. And it was absolutely flavorless. But it was sixty-five cents cheaper than my Hormel. You get what you pay for.
Next, choose your cooking medium. I learned to cook bacon on a flat top grill plate, and I've used everything from electric griddles to toaster ovens to broilers to non-stick cookware. And, of course, there is always the microwave. But for my money, nothing works better than cast iron. A well-seasoned cast iron skillet and bacon are just made for each other.
Take your bacon out of the refrigerator ten or fifteen minutes before you intend to use it. The slices will separate a little easier. If you must use fresh from the fridge cold bacon, a rubber spatula or the dull side of a butter knife slid along the length of the slices with a slight rocking motion should help separate them neatly.
Start with a cold pan. This will reduce the amount of splattering. Splattering occurs in part because of the quick salt-brining method used by today's meat processors. The liquid soaks into the meat, and when liquid hits hot oil - well, you know what happens. Starting cold and cooking low and slow will keep the snapping, crackling, and popping to a minimum.
Low and slow is the way to go. Never exceed medium-low to medium heat. Bacon can go from barely cooked to barely edible in about two seconds if you're not careful. Watch it carefully and turn it frequently. Now, some people use tongs or a fork to turn bacon. I use a kitchen turner, or what some call a pancake turner, and here's why; not only can I turn the bacon over cleanly and easily, I can also press it down. Pressing the bacon while cooking it keeps the slices from curling up and produces those nice flat, evenly cooked slices that you see in restaurants. They sell bacon presses, some of them cutely shaped like pigs, but I just press down with my turner to get the same effect.
From the "did you know" department; older bacon cooks - and burns - quicker than fresh bacon, so watch the stuff from the package you opened last week. And, obviously, thick sliced bacon cooks more slowly than thin.
Four or five slices of bacon will fit comfortably in an average cast iron skillet. Don't overcrowd. Cooking in small batches might take longer, but it will yield better quality results. Some people cut the slices in half. Eh. Leave 'em long. They're gonna shrink anyway. If you're going to make several batches, drain off the excess grease in the pan after each batch. Or after every other batch at most. Otherwise, you're basically deep-frying the bacon in its own grease and it won't come out as nice and crispy that way.
As with most cooking techniques, practice makes perfect. Only you know how soft or crisp you like your bacon. It's a real challenge when I make breakfast for a particular couple of friends. He likes his bacon really soft, barely cooked. She likes it perfectly crisped, but not overdone, which is the way I prefer it, too. My wife, however, likes hers cooked almost to the point of burning. But I usually manage to please everyone. It's all a matter of watching and timing.
Finally, remove the bacon from the pan and lay it out on a double layer of paper towels. Unless you, like my aforementioned relative, use the really cheap bargain towels. Then you might need a whole roll, I don't know. Allow the grease to drain from the bacon and blot it off the top of the slices, as well. If the cooked bacon is going to have to sit for awhile while you cook eggs, make toast, or whatever, you might try setting your oven on "warm" and sticking the bacon in there to keep it nice and warm for serving.
If you really must cook your bacon in the oven, set your rack in the middle portion of the oven and preheat to 375. Lay your bacon out on a baking pan lined with aluminum foil. Better yet, a slotted broiler pan, if you have one. Place the pan in the oven once it reaches temperature. Cook for 15 to 20 minutes, turning the bacon over about halfway through. Keep an eye on it. If too much fat starts to accumulate, take the pan out and drain it off. When it's done, remove the bacon and drain on paper towels
If you really, really must use the microwave, you can either use one of those nifty, grooved microwave bacon cookers or you can just use a microwave safe plate. Either way, lay the bacon out so its not touching. Otherwise it will fuse into a large, crispy mass and be very difficult to separate. Cover the bacon with a paper towel, unless you're really into cleaning the microwave. Just lay the towel over the bacon gently. Don't press it down or you'll have loads of fun trying to remove the little bits of paper towel that will invariably cook into your bacon. If you're using a bacon cooker thingy, put the slices right on the plate. If not, put a layer of paper towel under the bacon as well as on top. Rule of thumb; one minute cooking time per slice. But, as all the microwave instructions disclaim, microwave temperatures do vary according to the power of the oven, so watch it carefully. If it looks like it needs a little more cook time, do so in 30 second intervals. You'd be surprised how much difference there is between 30 and 45 seconds. I've had bacon go from soggy to rigor mortis in that little interval. Watch it. No need to drain, but get the cooked bacon off the paper towels as quickly as possible. The bacon is likely still cooking for a few seconds after you take it out of the oven and it will cook itself right onto your paper towel if you don't remove it quickly.
James Beard said it: "There are few sights that appeal to me more than the streaks of lean and fat in a good side of bacon, or the lovely round of pinkish meat framed in delicate white fat that is Canadian bacon. Nothing is quite as intoxicating as the smell of bacon frying in the morning, save perhaps the smell of coffee brewing." But that's another subject entirely.