i really cannot over-emphasize enough how much this humble man's pickled heart longed to produce a poem of great beauty and resonance to accompany the shot above - a poem worthy of the hallowed place which all pickled goods (aside from those most hated of pickle impostors: the lowly bread and butter gherkin) rightly occupy in the culinary world.  it took all of two seconds to come to the sensible conclusion that the task be better left to someone of much finer literary grandiloquence (credit due to Merriam Webter's online thesaurus).  that being said, has anybody ever seen a label of such exquisitely honest simplicity on a jar of pickled asparagus - or rather, esparrago?  sodium content be damned.