I will only eat one kind of pickle from now on!
Clausens, that is. For a while I'd taken issue with the vast difference in quality between the pickles I got at the deli and the ones I found in jars at the store. In comparison the store pickles were limp, flaccid, and the juice resembled what I imagine formaldehyde might taste like. And then, a miracle! I was hanging out at my friend Meg and Dave's house, when Dave offered me a bite of his pickle. It was delicious! Crisp, salty, delicious! I had to see where they came from, because from now on I would only eat this pickle. One pickle for the rest of my life: Clausen. Halleluj.
Imagine my surprise when I went to the pickle aisle of my local store and found it overrun by the Vlasic Stork, and some asshole named "Miss Olive". No thanks. I'd been ruined for other pickles. If it couldn't be Clausen, it would be nothing. I went to another store, same result. Had those bastards run the Clausens out of the pickle business I wondered? A search on the Internet revealed no such occurrence. Thanks to a quick text to Dave I discovered that Clausens were in the deli area, refrigerated. Because Clausens are NEVER heated! I love them so I've even taken to dipping them in hummus. What a snack sensation.
Imagine my surprise when I went to the pickle aisle of my local store and found it overrun by the Vlasic Stork, and some asshole named "Miss Olive". No thanks. I'd been ruined for other pickles. If it couldn't be Clausen, it would be nothing. I went to another store, same result. Had those bastards run the Clausens out of the pickle business I wondered? A search on the Internet revealed no such occurrence. Thanks to a quick text to Dave I discovered that Clausens were in the deli area, refrigerated. Because Clausens are NEVER heated! I love them so I've even taken to dipping them in hummus. What a snack sensation.
Accept no other. |