The Great Pickle-scape

A helpful neighbor brought me the bounties of his garden.... zucchinis the size of The Rock's biceps, radishes as big as golf balls and cucumbers galore.


hmmmmmm...................  I get a creatively evil glint in my eye as I glance around my new enormous kitchen in a MacGyver like fashion............ what can I make?

The radishes were easy.  Quick wash, quick trim with the knife and a ziploc bag... those were snacks and lunches for the good part of a week.  They were so crisp and yummy and had a burn that could give this blog heartburn.

Next.... cucumbers.... oh, I remember homemade pickles... wow, I wish I could make pickles.... I wish Aunt Pat and Aunt Suzie were around the corner, they would make amazing pickles out of these.  HEY!!!  WAIT!!!!!   I CAN MAKE THEM!  ( my inner voice can be very intimidating at times, which is a must since I have such a shy brazen personality)  And a challenge was born.  Ok, let's first accept the fact that I'm extremely competitive.... especially with myself.  My favorite quote is "Try again, fail again, fail better" (Samuel Beckett).....  some people think it's because I have low self esteem, but frankly I think those people need to rethink that or stop trying to be an armchair shrink.  I love coming short of perfection because now I get to try again and make yet another amazing accomplishment, tackle another challenge and set forth on another creative journey.... and I've made falling short a carnival ride I can't get enough tickets for.

Anyhow....

So I reached back in my mind and remembered an amazing day from my childhood where my Uncle Milas taught me how to eat spicy food.  I've re-engineered this memory a bit because I now remember that food being pickles, but it had to have been peppers because Aunt Pat made bread and butter pickles, which aren't spicy, and even as a little girl I didn't have a wimpy palette.  He took me up into the kitchen, got a piece of bread (mmm, yummy whole wheat bread) from the bread box and poured me a glass of ice cold vitamin D milk (we didn't drink the low fat, extra skinny double soy almond stuff back then, milk was real milk or buttermilk or chocolate milk, that's it).  He told me the great strategy of eating spicy food was that if it was too hot to follow it up with bread or milk, never ever never water.  And a memory was made, and a passion for spicy food unleashed.

oooh, shiny thing!  Where was I?  Oh.... making pickles.

As I thought about making the pickles, reached out to Aunt Pat, read dozens of recipes on www.foodnetwork.com someone else started getting a creative glint.......  "You should do YouTube videos of cooking and baking," a friend suggested.  WELL.... since he was making them of my fish tank I thought.... hmmm, new challenge.  So I did.

So off to WalMart to get the pickling spices/seasonings/packet-o-instant pickle mix.  I checked out the bread and butters and the kosher dills and went with the dills.  Back at home I dug out my gimundo bottles of roasted garlic and six pepper blend to add into the brine to make some magic happen.


I mixed everything together, following the directions on shall we say a frontage road instead of the actual highway... have to have some adventure or it would eliminate the debauchery in my kitchen.

While the mixture was boiling and bubbling and percolating like any good recipe does I sliced up the cukes and added them to the jars.




From there I very carefully filled the jars with that brine of steamy and spicy goodness.  I say carefully because I tend not to be very careful about any endeavor I launch myself into, hence the scars, bumps, bruises, scrapes, abrasions, war stories and doctor bills.  This time it was all minimal on the casualty list, because although I was very careful filling the jars with brine, I wasn't so cautious when it came to adding them to the steaming hot water bath.


I boiled the jars for about 14 minutes before pulling them out (with tongs and hot pads and towels since I couldn't find a fireman to borrow more heat repellant body wear from).  They sat overnight on the counter, absorbing all the juices and seasonings before I popped one jar into the fridge to indulge on now, and the rest were safely tucked away for Thanksgiving, or the following Sunday since I already gorged on one jar.


So, pickles down and a mighty great success, but not quite perfection so cukes are a must in the garden next year so I can take this adventure again.

See you on my next journey.

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