It's hard to hate someone when they're driving a bacon car. Even when they're stealing your parking spot on the LES.

(Full disclosure: Ford wanted me to ride in their bacon-wrapped Fiesta so badly that they offered to feed me a whole bunch of bacon dishes and cocktails from Crif Dogs, Prohibition Bakery, Mission Chinese, and the Wayland. The only thing they didn't pay for was the cholesterol medication that I now require.)


It's Thursday night at 7 PM and I'm cruising across St. Mark's in the most conspicuous car in New York City. It is not a chromed Aventador. It is not a Bugatti Veyron Super Sport. It is not the presidential limo. It is not some garish SEMA-bound Civic SI. It is a pre-production 2014 Ford Fiesta. And it is wrapped in 10 strips of 3M bacon.

Happy hours are winding down and slightly inebriated professionals are leaving the first bar of the evening in search of food. Every single one that we pass stops, stares, points, and smiles at the Fiesta. At least 90% of them snap a photo.

Chances are that none of these people will buy a 2014 Fiesta and wrap it in bacon. But who cares? They all love the car and they're all going to tell their friends about it. Maybe a couple of them will buy one in a normal color and hang a bacon air freshener in it. Honestly, it's what I'd do.

These are Crif Dogs. Specifically, a Tsunami and a Good Morning. Both are delicious, largely because both are wrapped in bacon.


I waited a full 48 hours before I started to write this post for one simple reason: I had no idea what to tell you about. I wasn't allowed to drive the car, so I couldn't tell you about the performance. I could tell you about the food, but you don't actually care about that, do you?

Then I realized that this isn't the story of a brilliant car. This is the story of a brilliant PR campaign. And I'm ok with that.


If you do care about the food, listen carefully. This is the cumin lamb from Mission Chinese. It is worth waiting up to 2 hours for a table just for this.


It's really easy to shit on PR campaigns. God knows I do it all the time. For once, let's all salute those who are given the thankless task of selling us things we don't want or need. Because this time, at least they wrapped it in bacon.

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