Thursday, February 17, 2005

Poor Pickle

I was going through the fridge last night and I came across a jar of pickles. It was hanging out in the way way back of the fridge, behind the leftovers from at least a year ago. I couldn't even venture to guess how old the jar of pickles is. We've been living in the place for two and a half years so it can't be older than that (although it wouldn't surprise me if the previous renters left their pickle jar when they packed up and it's been there ever since). Funny thing is, it looked as though every pickle was still accounted for. Heck, I don't know if the jar had ever even been opened. I imagine this isn't an isolated case either. Come on, be honest. I'll bet anyone reading this blog has at least one unopened pickle jar sitting in their fridge somewhere. Don't believe me? See for yourself. It wouldn't surprise me if you had two or three.

What is it with the pickles? Somehow they appear so tantalizing on the grocery shelf. Once you make eye contact, you just know there's no turning back. So in the cart goes the pickle jar. And from the cart to the car, from the car to the house, from the house to the fridge, and that's pretty much where the story usually ends. I guess I can sort of understand the plight of the pickle. It doesn't really serve a purpose. I think we can all agree that it's not a meal, right? Even for a snack, it's just not filling enough. You can't really serve it as an appetizer. Have you ever been to a deli where they have the gargantuan pickle jars? Have you ever seen anyone eating them? Exactly. As a side dish? Come on, you've got to be kidding. How can the pickle possibly compete with mashed potatoes?

The pickle doesn't really have an identity either and I think that's part of the problem. What the hell is it anyway? It's not really a vegetable anymore once the cucumber has been fully transformed in its vinegar bath (speaking of which, who's idea was it anyway to see what happens when you keep a cucumber locked up in a vinegar jar?). It sure as hell isn't a fruit. Not a starch. Not a piece of meat, that's for sure. It's not even tofu (and the tofu clan will let just about anyone join its membership). A pickle's just a pickle. Nothing more. Nothing less.


At 9:30 AM, Blogger Okapi said...

Olives. I have jars of olives. They breed, I'm sure of it, because there's no earthly reason for my having four jars of them in the fridge.


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