Day 25 – 60: A Plethora of Pickles!

March 7th through April 7th, 2011

Lists…

Lists. Lists are tantamount to not going insane. Or trying, in any case. Crazy? How crazy… how crazy Is crazy in the big picture? Chel is looking at me like I’m crazy. Apparently, because I’m not paying attention to her as I’m typing, staring at her blankly and she’s accusing me of plagiarism… “You’re not listening to me! I want validation on my list… Wait! Don’t quote me on that!”, because I’m writing down what she’s saying…

I will save you from the torture of having to read the past month of pickles by Not listing each and every pickle eaten, however, will endeavor to recount the highlights… not in a list. But I ate at List… there was no pickle but it was delicious. (But secretly, I love lists… and List).

So goes my life of late… I’ve finally straightened out 4 weeks of crookedness, and proudly, am reporting the loss of only 2 days for missing pickles, and then only because I was simply not prepared; silliness, which I have thus rectified with the packages of relish I now keep in my purse. (It’s still a pickle people & I’m a girl on the GO!) I don’t truly count these days though, because technically, I’ve had up to 3 different pickles on some days so I think it balances out… like a pickle-bank! Oooo!

Having finally scaled the writing-block wall that appeared around a hidden corner and tried to take me out, I have courageously prevailed thus far. Mostly, I think because of fielding and dodging the inevitable “how’s the pickle adventure going?” “Still eating pickles?” questions, and the “you haven’t posted on your blog lately” statements, which, have somewhat guilted me into a forced write until a brilliant piece of writing by John Gardner, (an excerpt from his book ‘on becoming a novelist’, used cleverly in analogical form for the Brewmaster in an advert) caught my eye while waiting for the boys (resulting restroom trip following plethora of sample-size bevy’s which left me twiddling my thumbs wondering how I had a larger bladder than them…) after touring the Red Hook brewery (great beer btw… no pickles though).  Anyway, brilliantly writ, it sparked a hint of a flame which has been fanning into a roaring inferno. The editing is now killing me…

There have been many different pickles over the month and a few unexpected surprises. First and foremost, I should report that I have a complete irrational fear of pickled ginger.  I’m not sure why or how this developed, or even when (maybe when I started eating sushi??) but late night bevies at the Knee-High Stocking Company after a run to the Chinese Market found me having an ‘Absconded French Girlfriend’ containing absinthe and facing my ghastly fear. It’s ginger. It’s Not supposed to be pink, or sweet, or edible because at that point it’s simply NOT ginger! But, as it was late and without a proper pickle, I found myself, along with Jess and the bartender chowing down on it while Boris and Sadie-Mae watched on in horror. I’m still not entirely sure how I feel about pickled ginger but I can’t remember if I hated it, so therefore, am concluding that I may have enjoyed it – I do remember being surprised. Anyway, texting, pickled ginger and absinthe, no matter HOW okay you think it is, should never mix. Ever.

The awfulness of the “Napoleon” pickle (as earlier reported on) again found itself in the bar fridge. However, this time in the form of pickled baby corn. I was running out of options for pickles and well, corn… it was there, on the shelf, at the grocery store hiding out with the olives and hot peppers, taunting me. So, I figure, “I will suffer through, I survived pickled ginger!” Well the expected napoleon assault to my poor taste buds never actually came… it was a delightful burst of summer freshness. Spain, you got a ‘WINNING’ on this one!

Okay, moving on! SHOTS! Somehow, nachos turned into Patron shots, which, in turn turned into “I’ve got pickled habaneros!!”

Formula: Lick, salt, lick, habanero– chew… chew more… (Feel the heat!) Patron, lime… and DANCE!

Please, please try this, but note you will probably, as we did, need to chase it with a spoon of ice-cream to cool the insanity flaring in your mouth. This is tornado meets hurricane and agrees simply to HOT sunshine and happily ever after. And AGAIN!!! 

Unicorn pub has really good mini deep-fried battered dill pickles with a sauce flecked with dill. DeLISH! (A BIG thank-you to Reefy & Zeke for humoring me and trying them!!)

Pickled spicy green beans covered in reduced grainy mustard and chardonnay cream sauce was divine…

Coastal Kitchen has the most amazingly perfect omelet featuring finely sliced pickled asparagus, layered with fresh spinach, mushrooms and cheese… it was a dance of nymphs set to the flute of mimosa. *bliss! Please do this one if you have the opportunity – great food, amazing wait staff and incredible ambiance!

Good, old-fashion Reuben sandwich… Heaven on bread *sigh… if only it wasn’t so entirely fattening… (Thank-you Wilde Rover of Kirkland!)

Homemade pasta with a pickled artichoke heart and red pepper rose sauce… (I gained a few pounds reliving this one…)

Seared scallops over green beans, layered with a fresh pickled pineapple salsa… Speechless… Love it when my roommate cooks!!!

Antipasto, olives, relish, pickled jalapenos… good ole’ McD’s cheeseburger with extra pickles…it’s been quite the month which leads me to today… Day 60.

Incredible, 60 days of pickles… and lists. Lists of pickles, and the memories that go along with as I flip through my daybook taking a moment to commemorate 60 days of the Pickle and the feat of making it this far without hating them. Yes, 60 day increments are good. And without the invariable list to track all this pickle goodness, it would be lost except for the fleeting moments which pass altogether, too quickly to truly appreciate.

Let’s see what’s next, shall we?!