Tomato dribbling at the Gloucester Railway Carriage and Wagon Works

There was a time in my life when I was distinctly unsure about the origin of gherkins.

Despite it sounding like a book written by the rubbish younger brother of Charles Darwin, The Origin of Gherkins was a topic that I once discussed in detail, with me firmly believing that a gherkin was some sort of special weird vegetable that when grown, developed a natural vinegar-tasting tang as it ripened. This was countered by the belief that a gherkin was a small cucumber that tasted of vinegar because it was pickled.

Now, the pickled bit I could get my head around at an unwilling stretch (I mean, who pickles cucumbers?) but the cucumber part was so far out there my head nearly imploded trying to comprehend that I might just be eating cucumbers in my burgers, but also – and this is the bit that hurts – really enjoying them.