Here’s to you, mason jar: vessel of verity, purveyor of potables, container of comestibles, collector of collectibles, pickler of garden vegetables. Our demands on you grow daily. Always acquiescent, you adapt unbegrudgingly to our every inclination. Iced coffee? Definitely. Flowerpot? Sure thing. How about wine? Whatever, fine. Into the oven for a little loaf of bread, a solitary cupcake, even an individual pizza? Yes, indeed. We’ve seen you inverted, posterior perforated, ensconcing strings of Edison light bulbs. We’ve seen you chilled, filled with sapid spirits, and slid down the bar, teeming with captivating cocktails. Your arrival portends that all will be artisanal. So, sweet symbol of hand-craftedness, majestic monument to the memorable, here’s to you.