When I was hardly out of my teens I sat down at a white Formica table in a prominent Jewish deli in New York. Just after I placed my order, pastrami on rye, obviously, the waitress set down a plate of pickles. I hesitated, I hated pickles. The only run ins I’d had with those vinegar ed beasts was soggy, cooked tasting, nonsense that came via grocery store glass jars.
The waitress, an older woman with a thick Brooklyn accent and bleach fried blonde hair was having none of my resistance, “These are the best in the city, eat up,”
So I did, I’m a people pleaser and I didn’t want her to be mad at me. I was amazed. Nothing at all like I’d ever had. Crisp, slightly sweet, a little herbal, and so delicious that I ate the entire plate. It was a revelation.
It changed my world. I started pickling all kinds of things, like jalapenos, and coleslaw (minus the mayo) for pulled pork sliders, and I even once pickled under ripe strawberries just to see what would happen. But the real moral of the story is that if a waitress twice your age tells you to eat something, you should do it. It’ll change your life.
Click here for the recipe: http://thebeeroness.com/2015/03/02/ipa-pickles-and-pickled-sweet-peppers/