There are lots of traditional pickle brands in the US. If you grew up in the Deep South like me, then you probably had a whole shelf in your fridge devoted to Mount Olive pickles, a company that’s been producing pickles in North Carolina for 101 years.

Out of all the debates raging in the world at the moment, there’s one in particular we’ve decided to devote some brain space to. And that my friend is the pickle juice trend.

Like a lot of people, we can’t stop going back to Mexico. It’s just too good. The people, the art, the surf, the cultures, the landscapes, the wildlife, the traditions, the plants, the produce, the food. The food. The food. THE FOOD.

My first trip west of the Mississippi included layover in Dallas. Walking from one gate to another was all it took to convince me: The Lone Star Republic is another country.

In Shakespeare’s The Tempest, King Alonso asks, “How camest thou in this pickle?” If you put that question to Vaughan — code name Peter — he would take you on a small diversion down memory lane to a little Northern Virgina town in the Blue Ridge Mountains on the banks of the Shenandoah River.