I was dead asleep, dreaming about zombie viruses and high school reunions, when buzzing woke me up. My first thought was my alarm was going off, but the screen on my phone looked different. Someone was calling me.
From Stockton, CA. No one in Stockton has my phone number. I was too tired to make any decision so I just went back to sleep with the thought in my head “They will leave a voicemail if it’s important.”
I guess it was important, cause here’s the voice mail they left: Continue reading
So, like 16 weeks ago, I decided to make pickles. I procured the needed ingredients and supplies then went to work.
Well, it was like 40 minutes worth of work to get the brine and pickles all packed into a container and set on my counter.
I let them sit on my counter and ferment and all that jazz for 3 weeks or so. Then they were supposed to be ready. They were not. They simply were inedible.
They were bad.
Bad. Bad. Bad.
They were much too salty and not pickled all the way through. I was at a lost of what to do. This recipe just sounded so amazing. I spent money on the supplies, and gosh darn! I wanted some pickles.
So I just grabbed another clean jar and put the disgusting pickles in it, filled it up with fresh clean water and threw the jar in my fridge to deal with another day. I figured that if it was too salty, the fresh water would pull it out, and also fermentation just slows down in the fridge so maybe they’ll get better on the inside too.
Guess who’s got two thumbs and is right? This guy!
So after two months and a house move later, I had a sudden craving for a pickle and decided to give the salty mouth turds in my fridge another chance to be amazing. And they totally lived up to my expectations.
They were garlicy, slightly spicy, and just the right salty.
Amazing. Now, if I make it through the night without any… repercussions… I will declare them perfect.