The move to Ohio has turned me back into a country mouse... a little bit.
I have the urge to plant things. Make a garden. Harvest stuff. While our yard is still in progress, I am blessed to have family and friends nearby who are not only excellent gardeners, but generous as well. Two weeks ago we picked blackberries* at a friend's berry patch and I canned one jar of jam. One excellent, beautiful jar.
This week I got a bunch of cucumbers from my sister-in-law. So I decided to make pickles.
I love the green pickles in the antique blue jars!
Canning has always intimidated me a little. But now that I actually have tried it, it is not so bad. (Special thanks to Sarah for answering my many, many questions as I went along!)
Alli and Ruby couldn't wait to taste the homemade pickles. They popped open a jar this morning... for breakfast. The girls had pickles for breakfast. I had granola. I also had zucchini bread. So did the girls... only they had theirs with pickles on top. Alli insisted that it was delicious. So I tried it. Honestly, it was alright. The flavor of the pickle was loudest. Very salty with sweet undertones from the zucchini bread.
If there are any chefs reading this, you may want to experiment with those ingredients together. Maybe call your creation the "Alli Special" or something like that.
*So I mentioned the blackberries earlier. A funny thing happened at the berry patch. When we arrived, June was asleep. June has a talent for sleeping anywhere and through (almost) anything. So I put her in a wagon on top of a thick quilt and I pulled her back to the berry patch and parked her under a shady berry bush. We picked berries for a while... maybe an hour or so. We filled our bucket. Then Alli and Ruby wanted to walk back to get a look at the apple orchard. So I set the bucket in the wagon next to June, and we walked to the orchard about 100 feet away. We checked out the apples... so tempting, but not ripe. And when we came back to June, she was awake, lying in the wagon, luxuriously munching on berries in the shade. Her face and tiny fingers were crimson with berry juice. Life is good for the Little One.
After 24 hours, we have been through 1 pint jar of pickles! These are not going to last long!