Pickles

 In another victory of homemade over mass produced, Kate discovered last winter that the spicy dill pickles that I make almost entirely from my garden surplus were the best she’d ever had. She claims they changed her life. If I ever decide to market them, I will call them “Transformative Pickles.”

“I have to know how to make them,” Kate said.

It came to pass that the supply of small cucumbers converged with both of us being available last Tuesday. I had prepped the cucumbers by soaking them in water overnight.

“What does that do?” Kate asked.

“It makes them turgid,” I answered.

Kate did not know this word. As a geologist, she works with rocks that are always hard. Turgidity is a plant thing. It’s the opposite of “flaccid.” As plant cells fill with water, the plant becomes turgid. If water is insufficient, it becomes flaccid, a.k.a., wilted. The cucumbers will lose water to the pickle brine no matter what. If you start with well-hydrated pickles, there might be enough water left that the pickles still have some crunch to them. Start with flaccid cucumbers, well….

Kate dried the cucumbers and sorted them by size while I peeled a whole lot of (home-grown) garlic cloves. While I went to the garden to get the dill, Kate put two (home-grown) onion wedges, two (not home-grown) dried chili peppers, and ½ teaspoon of (not home grown) peppercorns into each of six canning jars.

Getting ready to pack pickles

In years past, I have bemoaned the fact that by the time the cucumbers are ready, the dill that sprouted in April from last year’s seed has itself gone to seed. The leaves have started to dry up, and it’s difficult to find enough for pickling. This year, because the volunteer dill didn’t seem to be coming back as much as usual, I planted dill seeds in May. I was delighted to find that this dill was perfect. It was just on the cusp of flowering, and the leaves were numerous and green.

Beautiful dill

With the seasonings in the bottom of the jars, it was time to pack the cucumbers. I instructed Kate to put the large ones in first and fill in with the little ones until it was as tight as she could get it. She was too timid at first, which I expected. It takes practice. We were a little bit short of six quarts. I ran out to the garden to get enough cukes to finish off the last jar while Kate measured cider vinegar, water, salt, and sugar for the brine.

After the brine had boiled, I ladled it into the jars, put on the lids and rings, and put them in the canner.

Adding brine to the jars

Kate and I went out to get sweet corn for supper. Terry put (home-grown) chicken on the grill. It didn’t seem like I had enough green beans for 3 people, making another trip to the garden necessary.

Just before we sat down to eat, the pickles were done in the canner.

The pickles, which will be ready to eat in 3 weeks

Kate remarked during dinner how cool it was that she was eating food that had just come from the garden. It is cool. I’ve said it before, but it bears repeating: I love summer.

All photos by Kate. Thanks, Kate!