Pickled Things

It's now approaching State Fair season in the U.S., where the food midways serve everything from fried Oreos to fried tiramisu to fried butter pats to fried Snickers bars. (In Iowa yesterday, some fried Republican candidates were served up as well).

In any event, if you can fry anything, I guess you can pickle anything too, as evidenced by this week's blog entry. Here's a neat vintage chrome advertisement showing an array of "Pickles with a Pedigree," from the Southern Specialty Kitchen, Statesville, N. C. They go on to boast on the back of the card: "Exquisite packages assembled from the colorful assortment pictured, boxed in beautiful foils, or re-use containers, glamorized with lustrous cellophane, gorgeous ribbons, seasonal flowers, fruits and emblems. Descriptive material submitted upon request. Shipped anywhere. Sold in epicure shops coast to coast and Canada." As if the prose isn't enough to whet your appetite for small objects steeped in brine, they even include a poem:

For zest and spice you will agree
There's nothing quite the same
As "Pickles with a Pedigree"
Home-Made by Dixie Dame.