Many profound debates have divided our society over the years, and another such issue has emerged, festering from the corner of your fridge and toiling in the bowels of your fast-food burger: pickles. We've heard it muttered in hushed whispers, seen it painfully scrawled in anonymous internet forums, and witnessed it tear apart once peaceful households. The phrase, 'don't nobody likes pickles' has become a polarizing statement and rallying cry for a niche of individuals aiming to devastate diversity of flavors in our sandwiches.
Let's all get on the same page first. For those of you who have led a sheltered, pickle-less existence, a pickle is a cucumber who enrolled in a vinegar immersion course, graduating with a degree in crunch and an unparalleled knack for concealment between your lettuce and tomato. A controversial figure in the realm of deli meats and bread, the pickle has become the unsung hero in an otherwise blandwich - a term to denote a sandwich so lacking in flavor that it's basically 'bland'.
Still, a silent, sour fruit rebellion is brewing. The proponents of the harmless-seeming 'don't nobody likes pickles' mantra claim that the inclusion of a pickle is an assault on the sanctity of the traditional sandwich, asserting with a straight face that pickles are the bane of gustatory pleasure. Their arguments? They say the pickle, with its unconventional tangy profile, steals the thunder from the innocence of turkey, ham, or God forbid, the humble peanut butter and jelly. They argue, albeit lightheartedly, for the protection of the blandwich culture and are pushing for the banishment of pickles in all things sandwich-ery.
Then there are the extremists on the other end, the staunch Pickle Deniers. With their veins coursing with fiery, bitter conviction that pickling is a despicable act against all cucumbers, they sabotage the joy of savory-stalwarts with slanderous pickles campaigns. Their claim? A pickle is an atrocity, a mark of shame on the reputation of its cucumber heritage. Their arguments consist mainly of glaring at your ham and cheese sandwich with pure, unadulterated disgust.
The battle over pickles, while hilarious to the neutral observer, has sparked a national conversation. And it is here we must arrive at a profound realization. What is a blandwich but a canvas, waiting for the artistry of ingredients to paint a flavorful masterpiece? Just as every hue adds depth to a piece of art, so too does every flavor to our sandwich canvas. If we encourage the banishment of pickles today, who will be next? The onion? The tomato? This sets a dangerous precedent.