Pickles/Frosting/Society/Innuendo

I know this is supposed to be a fun last blog-post, but I'm not a big food guy. Consequently, this assignment has put me way out of my depth and left me feeling confused, angry, and hopelessly depressed. As a defense mechanism (and page filling mechanism) I'm going to approach this blog-post with such searing austerity as if it were about fiscal policy or human rights, and will only disrupt this very serious tone to make room for the occasional clipart of a pickle with sunglasses on...   

...but enough of that frivolity. The augmentation of the pickle's natural zesty kick with frosting's tender and innocuous embrace has too long been overlooked by today's so-called epicureans. The pickle is a hardy, stalwart, and distinguished ingredient whose modest appearance, culinary versatility, and unaccountably ridiculous name has made it paramount among produce and earned it a special place at the heart of a generation, but we as a society have failed to truly appreciate this tangy miracle of nature. For centuries we've insulted this illusive green beauty by playing it safe, only using it for salads and sandwiches and as unadorned finger-food. Meanwhile, frosting waits neglected and unfulfilled, just sweetness on top of sweetness, all the while longing for a flavorful contrast that could realize it for the latent sensual powerhouse that it is. Anyway, you should try it, that'll make one of us.