So. Pickles. And why pickles? Because I so much don't want to talk about what's been going on in my life (or, more properly, someone else's life as I said yesterday) that I've decided to blather about one of the most inconsequential and pointless topics I could think of.
Thus, pickles. I like pickles. I had a pickle for breakfast today. Well, not just a pickle, of course. I was having cheese and crackers and decided to add a pickle just for the heck of it.
I like pickles, but I'm the first to admit that I'm a little fussy about them. My regular resort as far as pickles go at the moment is kosher-style (actual kosher would be fine too, naturally, but they aren't all that easy to find around here) baby dill cucumber pickles. The baby part is a must. I don't care for mushy pickles, and in a processed pickle (as opposed to a fresh pickle, I mean) it's almost impossible to get non-mushy in anything bigger than a baby dill. I like my pickles dilly and sour and garlicky, and I want to see actual pieces of that garlic in the brine.
Notice that I'm not telling you a favourite company name, here. I'm not about to start advertising pickles, and anyway I've had decent pickles that fulfill the above requirements from several different companies.
What I don't like? Bread and butter pickles. Gherkins, except for a couple of recipes I have where that specific taste is necessary. Hey, I don't even particularly like hamburger relish. Not a sweet pickle person at all, me.
And non-cucumber pickles? I'm of two minds about them, and I'll tell you why. I grew up on my grandmother's pickles. She pickled cucumbers, as you'd expect, but she also pickled things like carrots and onions. I was used to the cucumber pickles. Had them all the time. I was a bit of a fussy eater, though, so I nener really tried any of the other pickles. My mother never would have given me the onions in the first place, because I was (admittedly) weird about onions. It was the texture, you see. I was fine with fried onions. I could handle finely diced onions in sauces and things. Big chunks of cooked onion just really felt wrong. If we ordered onion rings, I would pull out the onion part and just eat the batter. I liked the taste, but not the feel. Raw onions? Forget it. If a burger came with raw onions, I wouldn't eat it until every last vestige was removed from my sight.
I'm, um, better about that now. And anyway, back to the pickles.
I'm sure my mom just didn't think it was worth the fight to have me eat pickled onions, so I never have. Never in my life. I have, however, had a pickled carrot. ONE pickled carrot, well over thirty years ago. It was so much not what I expected (hey, I couldn't even tell you whether it was good) that I never tried one after that. Carrots just weren't supposed to be like that. It freaked me out.
Don't even get me started on pickled cauliflower. The carrot did it for me as a kid.
Now? I honestly don't know what I'd think of those non-cucumber pickles. Even if I wanted to try some I don't really have the avenue anymore. They're not exactly common on store shelves. Ok, well, pickled onions are, but I'm not sure I'd go out of my way for them. Seems silly to buy a jar of onion pickles without having the slightest clue whether you'd even eat them. As for other pickled vegetables, I know I could go down to the farmers' markets and probably have my choice if I was curious, but I so rarely make it to the markets even for the stuff that I know I like that the idea of making a special pickle trip is fairly ridiculous.
As is this post.
I think I'll go have lunch now. Maybe a grilled cheese and leftover pork roast sandwich.
With a pickle, of course.
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