pickle me.

Pickles? Personally, i could take 'em or leave 'em. I know that some people love them. love them. There was this girl in middle school that used to drink pickle juice for a snack. I'm really only in love with the idea of making pickles (though, dunk one in a bloody mary and watch my eyes glaze over). I can't really figure out why, of all things, the need to ferment a jar of cucumbers has been the most persistent thought in my oh-so-monotonous mind. But, I decided it best to succumb to my obsession, and assumed it wouldn't be much of a trouble. Making classic kosher dill pickles requires a few very simple steps:

1. Sterilize mason jars with boiling water.
2. Make a brine by combining water and salt.
3. Make a pickling spice (or buy one pre-made).
4. Pack cucumbers into sterile jars and add pickling spice, dill, garlic, and bay leaves.
5. Pour brine over cucumbers to fill jars.
6. Place cheesecloth over jars and secure with twine or rubber band. Let sit on counter for a few days. Taste a pickle. Let ferment until to liking, then refrigerate.


In reality, my problems set in before step 1. Apparently nobody cans food in the south, despite common belief. I could not find a damn mason jar for the life of me, and settled on a glass screw-cap cookie jar. This, I immediately broke upon attempt to sterilize. Yes, I just graduated with a biology degree, but I seem to have slept through the chemistry course when they taught us that adding hot liquid to cold class will cause it to shatter. shucks.


In the end, I evened the score with those pickles that just didn't want to be. I followed a recipe from David Lebovitz's blog, which it turns out is easy. Now that the pickles are resting in their briny fluid, I've got time to attend to more important matters, like cocktails and Iron Chef re-runs.

so long.
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