I like to think that I generally have good taste. I try to avoid wearing stripes with plaids, am careful to pair robust red wines with my Big Macs, and only eat Sweet Tarts on days that end in "y." That having been said, I must admit that I have a few weaknesses, the most egregious of which revolve around sweetened pork products. To put it bluntly, I can't resist them.

For a long time, I was able to hide this predilection. Basically, it only came out around Thanksgiving, when I would bake a huge Virginia ham, slather it in brown sugar and orange juice, and cook it on high heat until it was sheathed in a crunchy candy coating. Resisting the urge to hoard all the sugary goodness, I would thinly slice the ham and serve it up to my family, only snagging a few pieces with the lame excuse that I just had to test the flavor.

Ultimately, I blame my wife, who introduced me to what she euphemistically called "pig candy." Basically thick-sliced bacon that has been rolled in brown sugar and baked until crispy, the sugary tidbits are sweet, salty, and only slightly less addictive than crack. Luckily, the shame of munching on grease, sugar, and salty pork is a pretty big deterrent, and I've been able to resist my pig candy urges. Still, late at night, I sometimes dream...

At any rate, I was recently reminded of the addictive wonder of pig candy when I came across this review of Voodoo Donuts' bacon-maple bar. Basically a buttermilk long-john, it apparently combines all the delight of maple sugar with the salty smokiness of bacon in one wonderful, fatty package. I immediately forwarded the review to my wife, who used to live in the Pacific Northwest. Needless to say, she'd already been there, tried that, and found it to be everything that I could imagine.

At the end of the day, it's nice to know that I'm not the only one in sugared pork rehab!

Last fall, in the beginning of my first year in New York, I discovered the Vendy awards. Sponsored by the Urban Justice Center, the awards honor the city's best street vendors. I was particularly interested because of Mohammed Rahman, proprietor of the Kwik Meal cart on 45th Street and Sixth Avenue.

On some days, when I had a little extra cash, I'd grab my lunch at Mohammed's stand. While his menu was, ostensibly, the same as most other halal vendors, Mohammed had previously worked at the Russian Tea Room, and his classical background showed through. His genius lay in the little details, like the green papaya marinade that he used for his lamb, the basmati rice that he served it on, and the intricate spicing that made it truly unique. Although the 2007 Vendy ultimately went to Thiru "Dosa Man" Kumar, Mohammed still reigns high in my personal vendor pantheon. After all, he introduced me to the world of gourmet street food.