It’s salty with a subtle crunch,
It’s just the sort of treat to munch
While scooping up some stuffing soft
And waving wishbones high aloft.
You might be able—I suppose—
To focus on those potatoes
Or gravy, smooth and savory,
Or rolls so rich and buttery,
Or thin-sliced turkey, moist or tough,
But no Thanksgiving is enough,
Without a scoop of this true treat,
Which with its flavor, can’t be beat.
It rounds out tables by the score,
At least it does in Baltimore,
And adds a little zest and gloss
To balance out the berry sauce.
This year Thanksgiving’s not the same,
But pickled cabbage is not to blame.
We’ll miss so many folks we love,
And some traditions we might shove
Aside to try out something new,
But sauerkraut’s not changing, too!
So, bring on gravy, pumpkin pie,
With whipped cream towers built so high.
“No, thanks” on green bean casserole,
Just pass me that most splendid bowl
Of one cuisine with so much clout,
The decadence of sauerkraut.
