O breaded lemon chicken, wast thou lonely before thou wore lemon? Thine artless crust becomes artful only in the company of citron. In thy brittle raiment, thou canst tempt even the gods of Olympus to assuage their hunger; and yet without the lemon, without thy heaven-paired companion, thou art but a drab morsel: plain and common.
So, my sweet, tart collation, mayest thou never again be parted from thy condiment, and my love for thee will be as constant as the neon sign at Amy Chinese Seafood Restaurant.