A Short Story Relating the Discovery of
Pickles*
By
Jaycie Hull
For
countless decades, pickles have been tickling the taste buds of the young and
old. Where, you may ask, does this angelic soured vegetable come from? What is
the story of its origin? I will tell you.
It began in
a small town, with a quirky chemist. His name was Old Fauvel. Old Fauvel was,
as the name implies, old. His taste was not what it used to be. Food that used
to excite his mouth was now dull and boring.
Old Fauvel’s
wife was a cucumber farmer. The couple had excess amounts of the
vegetable. The green delicacies had over run their guest bedroom and were
slowing creeping their way to other rooms of their tiny cottage. Every meal
that the Fauvels ate involved cucumber. Cucumber Eggs Benedict, cucumber corn
mush, cucumber Chicken Cordon Bleu, even cucumber pie! Old Fauvel thought the
cucumber was a horrid vegetable and he complained about it at every meal. We
cannot blame him, for cucumbers are really a dull vegetable, and with his
fading taste buds, it was probably an unpleasant experience for him.
As we have
mentioned, Old Fauvel was a chemist. He came to concoct a mixture of salt and
vinegar. This mixture was strong and sour enough for Old Fauvel to taste! He
began to pour it over everything he ate, and added it to everything he drank.
He noticed that the meals involving large amounts of cucumber were especially
pleasing. In fact, he stopped complaining altogether about his wife’s strange
cucumber combos!
Mrs. Fauvel
had noticed her husband’s new enthusiasm for cucumbers, and she was very
pleased. To show her appreciation, she decided to make something special for
him. She sneaked a jar of Old Fauvel’s vinegar solution and soaked several
choice cucumbers overnight, with the intent to add them to her husband’s lunch
the next day.
However,
fate is cruel. That very night, Mrs. Fauvel was on her way to a dinner party
when she was run over by the first tractor-trailer. She died. Old Fauvel sunk
into a very deep depression. He did not eat, and when he did, he stayed far
away from cucumbers. After three months of this, Old Fauvel decided to move,
for he could no longer stand to look at the cucumber infested cottage. While he
was cleaning out his kitchen, he discovered a dusty jar in the dark recesses of
his pantry. There was a note pinned to it.
“To My Dearest
Fauvel,
I’m so glad you have become as passionate as
I have about cucumbers.
I love you,
You’re Mrs. Fauvel.”
We will urge
the reader to overlook Mrs. Fauvel’s serious grammatical error. We know that
she really meant to be sweet, and was not trying to imply that Old Fauvel was a
woman. Old Fauvel, being grief-stricken, did not even notice his wife’s
blunder.
Old Fauvel wept for exactly three
hours. Up to this point, he had not shed a tear over his wife’s death. Upon
coming out of his crying session, he felt his stomach growl. It was the first
time in three months that he was hungry. He took one of these cucumbers out of
the jar, and bit it.
The flavor
was like fireworks on his dead tongue. Never had he ever tasted anything so
powerful – so tingly! The months spent in the acidic solution had transformed
the cucumbers into something completely new. Old Fauvel called it a ‘Pickle’.
That was what Mrs. Fauvel used to call him on account of his picky eating. To
the reader, this may seem selfish. He would have named them after her, but Old
Fauvel was unromantic and never called his wife any endearing nicknames.
From that day forward, Old Fauvel
devoted his life to making and eating pickles. Once he had an impressive stock,
he ate only pickles. Eventually, his guest bedroom was freed up and he
converted his home into an extremely profitable pickle company. We must give
him credit, for he did name the company after his wife. “Mrs. Fauvel’s Pickles”
set the stage for the booming pickle industry.
Unfortunately, Old Fauvel died a year
and a half later from cardiovascular disease. It turns out that pickles are
very high in sodium and you shouldn’t eat them at every meal.
The
End.
*Not a True Story
