I bought my first jar of Grillo’s Pickles in college. I carried them the half mile back from Target to my dorm room—which I had decorated like a ‘70s conversation pit, orange shag rug and all—and decided to have a quick snack. When I began to open the resealable lid, a tell-tale fizz should’ve alerted me to what was about to happen. But once there was a small crack in the jar’s seal, it was already too late. Pickle juice, bits of garlic, and sprigs of dill exploded like a chunky, vinegary...

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