Category Archives: Pickles

Treating Myself VERY Well

Out doing errands trying to be in the now and enjoy my comfortable car, access to almost any food imaginable, quality sound surrounding me in the Honda capsule and general fantastic life. Doing errands alone is boring. And, to be frank, lonely. Sad even.

Remembering errand-doing with my mother in Appleton, Wisconsin when I was too small to be useful, every stop so exciting. Maybe Lester Balliet at the coal company office would pull a nickel from my ear. Maybe I could – this one time – talk my mother into not stepping on a single crack in the square tile linoleum floor at the A&P, provided she let me come in with her. Maybe she would leave me to wait in the A&P parking lot, hunched on the floor of the VW bug, super scratchy carpeting tearing up my tender skin, pretending I was important, left behind to be kept safe.

Remembering errand-doing with my mother in Fairfax County, Virginia, when I was old enough to be useful, we were purposeful and adventurous, exploring a new locale, so far from the midwest and so foreign. She was brave and determined. We stopped for lunch. I felt – and maybe my mother did too – a tiny bit exotic and as though I was growing my sophistication quotient. Steak in a Sack. Oh, that sounds so awful now. We are not new here anymore and we are suspicious of silly names. Steak in a Sack was thinly sliced, seared beef in pita – delicious – unlike anything we had ever seen or tasted or even heard of and I remember a slight sense of reverance when walking into the wafting scent of meat. Pita was new, exciting, warm, tender, and yummy.

Doing errands now, alone, I go for efficiency and wonder why I think that speeding up will make time go more slowly. It will not. This time, this one time, closing in on the German Gourmet, I pull in. The German Gourmet is not for bargain hunters, praise be to Odin.

Okay, okay, I did eat in my car, but only because they do not have tables. Why do they not have tables, I wonder. And why do I not drive the Honda CRV with the picnic table option? That picnic table option is a real thing.

The German Gourmet is a sleeper sandwich mecca.

It is. A mecca. They offer a punch card. And holy cow look at the options on the order sheet. Did somebody say Tyrol Cabbage? Remoulade? Curry Ketchup?

The errand-doing was okay. The sandwich was good. The Muenchner, because it included an unknown to me ingredient, leberkase. So good. Could a person simply slow down for a sandwich mid-errand. Yes, yes and yes. Thanks be to Odin.

Addendum: Thanks be to kramalot who is authorized to order and eat sausage at any turn.

Spoken Through Lips Greased By Pastrami

From MMSMINYJAF (My-Main-Sandwich-Man-in-NY, JAF) who has his fingers on the pulse of pastrami. At Katz’s Delicatessen the pulse is hoppin’! Bauer and Dean Publishers have gotten the sacred word from the whispering pickles.

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The pictures in this tome are almost as nice as the ones I took when there with MMSMINY a few years ago.

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Photographs by Baldomero Fernandez, text by Jake Dell, edited by Beth Daugherty

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Two P’s in a Pod in a Pinch

eanutbutter and ickles

From KG-in-a-inch

Thought about you the other day: the NY Times had a write up in the food section about eanut butter & bread & butter ickle sandwiches. That is the one ickle I do like. Karin and my dog Mitchell were out of town all weekend seeing her mom in Roanoke. Kept telling myself – since I had all the ingredients – I was going to try this out. Kept chickening out.

My (used to be) aversion to ickles was 1.) thought erfectly fine cucumbers were messed with & 2.) (back when I would do McDonald’s – thought it was nervy of them to assume everyone wanted ickles on the cheeseburgers. Having quit smoking a couple of years ago find my alette has expanded. Such adventure ahead!

The verdict is in: Skippy Extra Crunchy w/ bread & butter ickles on lightly toasted  French bread = 100% winner!

Your encouragement was very helpful making this dive into the gastronomic unknown…..

Sandwich Monday: The PB&P

by Ian Chillag

NPR – October 29, 2012

The Peanut Butter & Pickle Sandwich dates back to the Great Depression. It’s great if you’re transported back in time to 1930 and you forget to bring Powerbars, or, say, if you’re stuck in your house with limited pantry options as a big hurricane heads your way. The New York Times says the PB&P is “a thrifty and unacknowledged American classic.”

Ian: As New York Times endorsed sandwiches go, this is way better than the Paul Krugwich.

Robert: It’s a weird combination. It’s a bad sign when even pregnant women won’t eat it.

Ian: The reason the Peanut Butter & Pickle sandwich was popular in the Great Depression was because people didn’t have money for the more traditional sandwich, the Anything & Anything Else.

Leah: Yeah. This pairs great with a nice shoelace and mule hoof stew.

Eva: This was part of FDR’s New Deal program to get unemployed pickles back to work.

Ian: Wow. It’s not bad. I haven’t been this surprised by a sandwich since that White Castle slider came to life and begged us to stop eating it.

Robert: Reese’s, are you listening? America wants a Pickle Butter Cup.

Eva: I always thought mixing peanut butter and pickles was lethal…or maybe that’s bleach and ammonia. Can’t remember.

Ian: Subbing in pickles is like having Tebow come off the bench. By that I mean pickles are bad at football.

[The verdict: surprisingly not bad. The pickles provide a nice texture and sweetness. That said, no one wanted more.]

Of course no one wanted more. They were satisfied!

We’ve Gotta Have ‘Em

Immigrant Identities, Preserved in Vinegar?

By JANE ZIEGELMAN
New York Times, August 3, 2011

TENSIONS over immigration in Europe are flaring this summer, along with questions about what — whether language, dress or diet — makes a foreigner a citizen. Of course, these questions also have a long history in America.

One of the biggest battles over assimilation occurred a century ago in New York City, and the battleground was food. Politicians, public health experts and social reformers were alarmed by what they saw as immigrants’ penchant for highly seasoned cooking. They used too much garlic, onion and pepper. They ate too many cured meats and were too generous with the condiments. Strongly flavored food, these officials believed, led to nervous, unstable people. Nervous, unstable people made bad Americans.

In other words, to be a good American, you had to eat like one.
No immigrant food was more reviled than the garlicky, vinegary pickle. Pungent beyond all civilized standards, toxic to both the stomach and the psyche, the pickle was seen as morally suspect. As Dr. Susanna Way Dodds wrote in the late 19th century, “the spices in it are bad, the vinegar is a seething mass of rottenness … and the poor little innocent cucumber … if it had very little ‘character’ in the beginning, must now fall into the ranks of the ‘totally depraved.’ ”

Read more here.

Pickle History Timeline

FROM

2030 BC: Cucumbers brought from their native India helped begin a tradition of pickling in the Tigris Valley.

TO

2001: The first annual Pickle Day celebration, NYC.

I must have pickles, he said.

Thank you, Elle Kasey of Magniferous, for the pickle tip off.