Let’s talk about Pork Roll.

Yes, that pink, circular, glorious breakfast meat whose ingredients we don’t want to think about. It’s a universally loved staple for breakfast, lunch, dinner and a 3 a.m. post-night-out-drinking snack. Pork Roll and Eggs. Pork Roll, Egg and Cheese on a bagel or a Kaiser Roll. 

And it’s got to be Taylor Pork Roll. But for those of you who don’t vaccinate your kids, don’t wear a mask to the supermarket, or wore a New England Patriots jersey on February 4, 2018, I guess any brand of Pork Roll will do.

Frying up Pork Roll is a science.

You have to make a slice across the circumference of the meat so it doesn’t bubble up.

Short order diner cooks use a bacon press to hold the meat down on the griddle; I used to keep a tin-foil-wrapped brick on the BBQ grill just for that purpose. Some people pierce the middle, or make a slice on the side to make it look like a pink Pac-Man. I cut three little slits on the 12, 4 and 8 o’clock positions for maximum pan fry sear.  I like my Pork Roll like Ben Franklin, that great Philadelphian, once advised: “better to be well done than well said.”

Microwaving Pork Roll should be a felony, and ketchup and mustard should be the only condiments allowed. Slathering mayo on it should earn you a trip to North Korea (or the DMV).

A few years back, Stinky Pete, my rescue Yorkie, had a horrible, vicious stomach infection. The vet put him on a probiotic powder that was to be sprinkled on this special dog food, that looked like the porridge from Oliver Twist. No treats, no Alpo, no meatballs from Nanny and no table food until the medicine ran through his system.

One morning, I started to cook a four-slice of Taylor Pork Roll, and soon enough, Stinky Pete was at my side, looking up, hoping for a slice from on high. I toasted an everything bagel, squirted some Heinz ketchup on it, and topped it with a slice of Dietz and Watson American cheese.

And yet I couldn’t bring myself to eat this wonderful breakfast, as my best pal couldn’t enjoy it. Puppy dog eyes and drool provides a certain moral compass. You don’t just sit there and eat Pork Roll in front of others who can’t have it. If you’re a dog person, you get it.

But if you’re a politician, you don’t get it. At all.

During this coronavirus shut down, we’ve seen firsthand the Pork Roll Sneaks.

Pennsylvania Health Secretary Dr. Rachel Levine gave us daily updates and prohibited us from accessing our elderly loved ones in nursing homes and assisted living facilities, as her own mother was quietly taken out of her nursing care facility and checked into a hotel. Meanwhile, our parents and grandparents — at least, those not related to a Governor Wolf appointee — watched helplessly as places we think of as Heaven’s Waiting Room shifted into fast-forward mode.

During this coronavirus shut down, we’ve seen firsthand the Pork Roll Sneaks.

According to an August 2020 article in USA Today Network Pennsylvania Capitol Bureau, nursing home residents make up 70 percent of Covid-19 deaths in the Commonwealth.

So as our family members were exposed to the virus, and many died thanks to Governor Wolf and Dr. Levine’s two mandated failures — letting infected patients back into nursing homes, and stopping state health inspections at those facilities during the pandemic — Mama Levine was getting a free copy of USA Today and hoarding complimentary soaps. She probably ordered a Pork Roll breakfast sandwich from room service too.

I can’t blame Dr. Levine for saving her mother’s life (On days my mom doesn’t post on Facebook, I would save hers too). But don’t tell the rest of us to take one for the team while your mom sneaks out the back door to safety.

California Congresswoman Nancy Pelosi needed a haircut and blowout, and thought nothing of sneaking into a hair salon — a business that has been closed down for almost six months due to her state’s health mandates. Six months without business so that Madame Speaker could get her hair done. Except a security camera caught her in the act; the Eva Peron of California told her constituents, do as I say and not as I do. 

And then she deflected, saying she was set up. Set up for making a clandestine hair appointment? 

Our own Mayor Jim Kenney was caught down in Maryland dining inside and enjoying real silverware and glasses while his hometown bars and restaurants — already on the brink of insolvency due to mandatory closures that lagged even the state’s impossibly strict measures — were forced to try and set up outdoor patios and seating to pay the bills.

So the coronavirus didn’t attack the people in Wal-Mart or the drive thru lines of Chik-Fil-A, but it would put the patrons of our corner bars and locally owned restaurants in grave danger. Or something.

Our own Mayor Jim Kenney was caught down in Maryland dining inside and enjoying real silverware and glasses while his hometown bars and restaurants were forced to try and set up outdoor patios and seating to pay the bills.

Every watering hole in Philadelphia, every breakfast joint, every food truck, every supper club from Rittenhouse Square to Port Richmond, from Somerton to Cobbs Creek is hurting, bleeding money, behind on rent and insurance because of the city’s Covid precautions. Thousands can wear a cheap facemask and protest in the streets but your local taproom can’t serve a bottle of Miller Lite to a masked-up regular.

And the optics of our leader, our Mayor having lunch and drinks inside a Maryland restaurant wasn’t illegal, but it was a doggone shame.

This is a perfect example of our politicians making the rules for us, and then breaking them.

Levine, Pelosi and Kenney stood there and ate slices and slices of delicious Pork Roll as the people they are supposed to take care of and represent watched them chow down as we were told, “no, you can’t have any. Pork Roll is for us, not for you! Don’t forget to mail in your ballot”!

Don’t whiz on our feet and tell us it’s raining. And try to be the person your dogs — and your citizens — think you are.

Patty-Pat Kozlowski lives and writes in the Riverwards and this morning fed her dogs Gary and Queso a slice of Taylor Pork Roll. Email her your breakfast order at yopattypat@gmail.com.