Pickled and loving it.

Hi Carolyn,




Is it me or is this summer just absolutely throttling along at warp 9.5?  The natural world sure seems to be coming back with a vengeance from the bigtime deep freeze of last winter, too. Don't know about down your way but up here I seem to have contracted some kind of perverse  Midas thing whilst out tending to and contending with  the scenery and greenery - everything I touch turns to earwigs. They're harmless and all, but they are  powerful ugly and seem to appear in superabundance in every crack and cranny I see. Pretty sure that if I had even one tenth of a cent for each earwig on the premises, I'd be able to live a lifestyle that would make ole' King Midas come off like the most lowly of  paupers.





This time of year has its upsides , and for all of the senses. Today, in the Braithwaite kitchen, it was round one of the pickling games. The cukes have appeared at the local farmers markets and so has the dill weed.

 Sooooo.... its dill pickle time, amigos!


It's a great time to own a fully operational nose for sure. Just the mingling of the brine, the garlic, the dill weed and vinegar in the air makes the house smell so great.

I cannot get enough of it.








Can you imagine what it must smell like to the canine schnoz?? 



 It's about the only time I wish I was a dog.

 

 

There are always at least two "go's " of dill pickles per season and one or sometimes two of sweet dills as well. Each of them is nirvana for the nose.






 
 
 
 
 We've managed to refine the process considerably in the almost four decades that we've been doing
this. It's certainly ninety-five  percent the efforts of my LSBH, but I have managed to have some creative input. First off, there should be a five to one ratio of small cukes to larger ones. The biggies are fine to slice for sandwiches, burgers etc but the petite ones are the most piquant by far.





One trick learned early on was to ice the cukes for a couple of hours before actually pickling them. Put them into a big roaster or other container and surround them with ice. It seems a little fastidious, I know, but it results in pickles that, even months down the road, will do that crisp snap of your teeth thing as you chomp.

 Ahhh , pickle perfection!







 
 
In fact, Carolyn, I don't think I can effectively communicate in mere words alone,  the quantum leap  difference between those off-the-rack dill-ish approximations  that populate the grocery store shelves and the end product of our yearly pickle-fest.





 Let's just suppose that pickles were cars.  Guess which one would be ours.

 

 

 



Right now I am well into the Scottish ghost story you referred to last time around and am finding it chilling as well. In fact, there are times when I can almost feel the damp all-penetrating atmosphere of a medieval castle. 


 Plus, it makes me want to visit Scotland someday.


Okay, enough of the pickle-ish proselytizing. I was gonna throw in a pickle riddle here but that would be too easy. The riddles are still about, though.  Make no mistake, They shall return.



Hope your back to school time goes well, Carolyn.


Don




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