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When I used to have a garden, one of my favorite vegetables to grow and pick was the cucumber. I trained the vines up tomato cages, and I tried my hand at all kinds of cucumbers, from tiny crisp gherkins to round, mottled yellow balls that reminded me of lemons. They grew prolifically, one of those vegetables that could triple in size overnight, morphing from a slender green fingerling to a billy club in the dark. My favorite, though were the pickling cucumbers. I loved to eat them straight off the vine and in salads. I loved their crunch, and their seeds seemed inconsequential. Sometimes, if I were really ambitious, I would try to make pickles, but pickles were daunting to me. Somehow, in the heat of summer, the idea of leaning over a cauldron of steam and boiling water, trying to fish out mason jars with the wrong set of tongs always intimidated me. I tried it a few times, and I had a right to be intimidated. I had the wrong equipment and wasn’t enamored enough of canning to invest the time and space in the right equipment. What I really liked to do was buy dill pickles from Vida Williamson. Those were great pickles. Vida lived up on the Devil’s Backbone and twisted her own cucumber vines through the brilliant red cockscomb and the hot pink zinnias that defined her garden. |
She also grew great, feathery fronds of dill, whose yellow flowers matured into a bronze spray of seed pods by summer that went into the mason jars, along with garlic and vinegar and jalapenos and who knows what else. I could lie on the limestone riverbank in the sun and go through a jar of those on a summer afternoon. So why bother to make them when Vida did such a good job? And then, somewhere along the line, I came upon Vida’s recipe for Bread and Butter Pickles. I always thought I was partial to dill pickles. I knew I didn’t like sweet pickles. Too sweet. Too much clove. But bread and butter pickles were different. They were more complex. They were addictive. And—they didn’t involve steam or boiling water or mason jars with 2-part lids or tongs. They involved pickles and vinegar and spices, a big jar, and some refrigerator space. I could do that. Vida’s not making pickles this summer. She fell and broke her hip a while back, and she’s living in Deer Creek these days. And that’s a shame because she is one good cook. I’m sharing this recipe with you because Vida shared it with me, and I don’t think she’d mind. It’s easy. Just do what it says. Add some sliced onions and garlic if you’d like. July 2, 2004 |
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Vida’s Bread and Butter Pickles 4 c. sugar ½ c. salt 1 ½ Tbsp. turmeric 1 ½ Tbsp. dry mustard 1 ½ Tbsp. celery seed 4 c. cider vinegar Pickling cucumbers Stir dry ingredients. Add vinegar and stir till dissolved. Slice cucumbers. Put all in gallon jar. Put it in the back of the refrigerator and try to forget about it about it for two weeks except when you reach in to shake it up every now and then. If you can’t wait two weeks, don’t. Try them earlier. You’ll know when they’re ready. Enjoy!
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