I spent all of my spare time this weekend making something in the kitchen. I made zucchini bread. I made granola. I made garlic scape dip. I made peaches and cream ice pops. All of these projects were pretty easy, breezy and kept me busy in a good way.
Today, I made pickles. You know the saying, do something everyday that scares you? Pickles are super scary.
I have never pickled anything in my life. I am not a canner. I have never canned anything, and I have never watched anyone can anything. But the CSA has been overly generous with their cucumbers, and Dan doesn't like cucumbers all that much. I like them, but not enough to eat 1+ a day, everyday. So I decided to make pickles, even though I don't have a proper pot, or tools or even canning salt for that matter, I figured what the heck. And my heart begins to pound.
Slicing was the easy part.
So was this 2-hour ice path.
Cooking the concoction. The vinegar stunk up the apartment real nice.
My biggest concern was that I didn't have a very large pot to submerge the cans, nor very good tools to insert them, so I was terrified of burning myself with the boiling water. I didn't. But I managed to dirty up my counters really good, and the turmeric and mustard seeds made some unsightly yellow stains (that will come out, right?)
The finished product! I know I sound like a real Martha Stewart writing this post, but I assure you that I am still learning and figuring stuff out. One of the jars leaked during the boiling/sealing process. (I don't think that was supposed to happen!) But whatever, happy I passed over the scary first-time hump.
You know who makes good pickles? My sister. Maybe she'll show me the drill next time! (Hint, hint).
By the way, here's the recipe if you are feeling adventurous!