Category Archives: homemade pickles

>Eat Like a Freak: Garlic Jelly

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I think I already do. Eat like a freak that is, but just in case, I ate especially freaky yesterday, in an especially freaky place. The NOLA Hot Sauce and Gourmet show in Kenner…

New Orleans is such a great place and while it’s full of Southern CHARM, I forget sometimes that I really live in the Deep South again and then I find myself in a place like Kenner which is a mere 10 minutes outside of New Orleans and oooooooh my…there were um…a *few* rednecks there…including this guy:

It was really hard to get this photo because A) I had to look at him and B) he was pacing around because he was a participant in the “spicy lick-a-thon” and I reckon the heat was a gettin’ to him.

ANYHOO, the show was great. We walked around and filled our tiny spoons with all kinds of hot and BBQ sauces, pickles and jellies. I did indeed eat like a freak, ‘cuz I don’t even like jelly but I LOVED THIS STUFF:

Is Garlic Jelly weird? Any kind of jelly is weird to me, so I’m just asking…but whoa is this stuff GOOD! I have no idea what I’ll eat it on since I don’t eat a lot of bread but I may have to make an exception for this stuff. Plus I just really love the way it looks, all those little chunks of garlic and bits of parsley suspended in jelly really captivate me (probably because I’m a Southern redneck myself-mawmaw, LOOK! Jelly!).

The maker of this magical stuff was one of my favorite people I met that day. Rita Smith and her husband Roger make all kinds of salsa, jellies and of course pickles, but it was the line of jellies that really grabbed our attention. You can look them up on their website, which is on the internet, (so is my blog, by the way) at www.olehomestead.com. I’m pretty sure it’s the only place you’ll find “Crawfish Jelly” (which is the most amazing color of peachy pink I’ve ever seen and I wish now that I’d gotten a jar just to gaze upon)!

I met some other amazing folks but that’ll be the next post I write!

Twitt

>Made in NOLA

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Two weekends ago I stayed in on a Friday night (really hard to do in NOLA) so I could hit the farmer’s market on Saturday morning, you know, EARLY before it got too hot… but I slept til’ 10 anyway and I just resigned myself to the fact that it’s summer in New Orleans. It’s HOT no matter what you do or try to do.

I scooted down on my Vespa with the intention to just buy enough cukes to make 2-3 quarts, but I ended up getting a whole basket full for $3-they were all short and chubby, hence their bargain price, but I was going to slice them into rings anyway, so I crammed my full market bag in to the seat of my scooter and got home to get down to business!

I made 8 quarts and after all the jars were cooled down, I had to hide them under my counter so I wouldn’t be tempted to open them early. It took every bit of my will power. In order to let them “sit” for 2 weeks it would be July 1 before I could open a jar. On that day, I put one jar in the fridge before leaving for work and when I got home that night I cracked open the first jar with MUCH anticipation!

The first jar was empty before the weekend was over. Yes, my day’s labor 2 weeks prior was a huge success and now I’m thinking, I only made EIGHT QUARTS….sh*t!!

Here’s what I used for the brine ( I ended up making 2 batches of brine-you can just double the amounts):
4 cups water (I used “spring” water, not tap)
4 cups distilled white vinegar (5% acidity)
1/4 cup of fine sea salt (actually a little less)

Pack each jar with a teaspoon of mustard seeds, a few hot peppers, a few cloves of garlic, and a sprigs of fresh dill
Pack in your cukes
Bring your brine to a boil and then carefully pour over your cukes and fill your jars
Seal your jars with your lids, that you boiled separately and let cool a bit

Do everything in your power to forget you made these for 2 weeks and then enjoy!

Twitt

>I Bought Crack in the French Quarter

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>You already know I have a problem… a bit of a habit…but what am I supposed to do when the pickle pushers just FIND ME?

I’m learning fast that in THIS town, temptation is every.where.you.look….and even where you don’t look. I knowingly ventured to the 25th Annual Creole Tomato Festival in the French Market a few Sundays ago with the agenda to buy a few pickled things, pickled Mirlitons being high on the list. A bus ride downtown, a fresh lime daiquiri and $10 bucks later, Mission Accomplished: pickles in hand.

But these were just gateway pickles. The hard stuff would find me a few bars later. My friends and I ventured from bar to bar-Pravda (no AC!), The Abbey, and then Johnny White’s….a den of crack. All I did was sit there and from the farthest corner of the small, narrow bar I saw a vision of a woman standing outside in the light holding what I wanted. A flat box- a case of Ball mason jars-I would recognize those colors and that font anywhere-full of jars and….a go cup with a Hurricane from Lafitte’s Blacksmith Bar. Could it be? Is she really selling pickles? Right outside the very bar I’m in when there are HUNDREDS of bars to choose from? How did she know?

I marched towards the door (possibly staggered) and barraged her with questions, “Are you selling pickles? What is your name? I have to have a jar! How much are these? OhmygodIwriteablogaboutpicklesandIcan’tbelievethis?”

HOW MUCH for a JAR?

I gave her $5 dollars and pawed a jar and she gently took my hand and said “No, take these. You have to try the CRACK PICKLES.” Oh I took the crack pickles alright and I ate them almost immediately. They were spears with a clear, simple taste of brine and mustard seed. They tasted like warm sunshine on a blanket. I managed to share a few but I clearly hogged the majority of the jar and then at my final bar of the night, I polished off the remaining pickle juice.

All I’ve got now is an empty jar with a handwritten label and a strong urge to eat more crack pickles! I didn’t catch this seemingly mirage of a woman’s name but she did tell me her farm, Lone Cypress Farm has a facebook page and from there I learned that their main mission is rescuing stray animals-they use to farm to grow produce and use the sale of their harvest to support their rescue. Crack with a Cause!!

She assured me I could find her again another Sunday night, same place-ish, same time-ish (this IS New Orleans after all) and I sure hope I do. You can order your own crack online and I urge you to do so. Don’t make me do crack all alone.

Twitt

>American Sector-Pickles @ the WWII Museum

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I was a little obsessed with these pickles before I even moved here from reading about them on my fave NOLA food blog Blackened Out. But now that I’m HERE, I’m TRULY in love with these green spears of patriotism.

Chef John Besh runs the restaurant American Sector which is part of the museum but admission is not required. The pickles are free but I’ve noticed on my repeat visits they aren’t automatically brought to your table, so don’t be shy and ask for them as soon as you’re handed your menu! They are very tangy pickles with an initial heavy bread and butter taste but I’ve noticed that with every bite I pick up a different subtle taste which keeps me happily munching away. Also, they change slightly in flavor every time I’ve visited, which tells me that are made fresh on a very regular basis.

The menu is great and I try and order something different every time I visit, but my favorite dish (besides the amazing corndog) is the garlic honey glazed chicken wings because they come with a trio of pickled veggies. Pickled squash, watermelon and radish is pictured below. The radish was underwhelming (but I’m not really a fan), the squash was delicious (I’m not usually a fan) but the watermelon was magical. It was still very sweet but had a spice and tang to it that I loved. I ordered the wings and had no idea they would come with so many pickles on the side-perfect!


I’m lucky that I have a job just down the street and a friend that works at the Museum, so it’s a quick and luxurious lunch spot for me. Everything I’ve had is amazing right down to the hotdog. But what’s really special about this place is that every trip I’ve made there has had an emotional impact on me. To be seated next to a WWII Veteran who gently cuts his wife’s food for her or to snap a photo of a Veteran and his wife at the next table for them to remember their trip here makes me feel so grateful. So if you see me a little teary-eyed at American Sector it could be the pickles, or the corndog or the spicy wings, but it’s not.

Thanks to everyone who has served and a big salute to those serving now.

Twitt

>Oh! You Wanna See?

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Oh-you wanna see my tender young cucumber plants? Well, here’s my little patch, my first time experiment with growing just about anything. I have no idea if this container is big enough but I’ll wait and see what happens.


Here’s a close up of my plants-it’s interesting how the leaves are shaped differently and what is that white stuff?
Please share any tips YOU have and does anyone know how long it will take before they bloom and start producing? Obviously I’m just watering them and keeping my fingers crossed at this point.

Twitt

>The Problem

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Another empty jar. This is actually the garlicky remains of a jar of homemade pickles from a Facebook Friend in Chicago named Brad Owen. His pickles are called Brad’s Best and on the label it says “made with a sprinkle of pickle magic”, which I think means lots of garlic, not that there was ANY left once I really finished this jar.

Hell yeah, these pickles were GOOD to the last chunk and I even got scolded for eating them in a (shitty) diner in Manhattan which angered me greatly but that’s another story…anyway, the problem is the freakin’ jar is EMPTY and it’s just one of possibly thousands I’ve gone through. So this year I’m not only making my own pickles, I’m growing all the ingredients too.

If you’ve got pickle growin’ advice let’s hear it!

Twitt

>super bowl of pickles

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It is safe to say that last night’s Super Bowl just didn’t measure up in New Orleans to last year’s Super Bowl. In NOLA we all gathered to watch the game, but at the party I went to, we spent more time with the gumbo than the Black Eyed Peas. I did align myself with the Steelers by eating all items made with cheese the same color as their “terrible towel”.

I also ate a few pickles.

Fried pickles made an appearance and I have to say, these were the best homemade fried pickles I’ve ever had. My friend Brad made them and they were “restaurant quality”! They held their crisp-ity crunch way after leaving their deep fried bath.I tip my hat to whoever gave Brad a deep fryer for Xmas.

A tip of the hat is also due to my friend Daniel. Daniel has already conquered the stage with his band Double Dong and film with his role in Nit Wit. He’s conquered fatherhood with 3 children in almost as many years, is a pretty good bowler, can kiss a dog like nobody’s business and all while looking good in a pair of cut off jeans short-some would say an impossible feat. He’s also taken on pickling and guess what?

HOT DAMN. They make me smile.
They arrived at my door the night before the Super Bowl with their very own label drawn and attached to the jar and the next night they assumed their place on the mighty party table amongst the cheeses and cheese filled things.

Which I then ate.
Sooo…remind me again who won the game?

Twitt

>Full Circle

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A year ago, probably to this exact day, I was visiting New Orleans. I rang in the New Year with old friends I was lucky to see once a year in a town I hadn’t visited in years, years that were “Pre-K”. The thought of moving to New Orleans had been swirling in my head ever since the storm and my trip last year was a visit to check it out and to “test” whether or not I could see myself living here. I’d written my friend Brad earlier and half jokingly said “convince me to move to New Orleans” and a few days later he responded with a thoughtful and heartfelt list of reasons to live here that pretty much did what I asked… I couldn’t get down there fast enough and when I did, the voice inside my head said “Yeah, You Right!”*

During my visit, Brad shared with me his mom’s homemade pickles he’d been given while he was home visiting her in Mississippi for Xmas. They were sweet and onion-y and made with love. I found these pictures of the pickles and Brad today as I was browsing, wondering how to start off my new year on the blog.

So as I begin my New Year in my New Orleans, and NOT as a visitor, I want to thank Brad and his wife Julie for their hospitality, generosity, sense of humor, and enthusiasm for life in this beautiful city. I’m glad they are old friends who are new again. I’ll be lucky to call them old friends again. So here’s to new friends, new pickles, new experiences, new love, and New Orleans (* And to peppering my speech with New Orleans sayings)!

Happy New Year Everyone!!!

Twitt

>Krazy Katy The Pickle Lady (That’s Me!)

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My friend Jeff interviewed me while I was home in Aberdeen, MS for Xmas and wrote this great article about Pickle Freak for the Monroe 360 Journal.

Aberdeen was such a small town that growing up we all recognized the car of the newspaper’s photographer. I can remember debating whether or not to run through the sprinkler in the front yard or the back yard depending if I wanted my picture in the paper in my mickey mouse bathing suit(courtesy of Tots to Teens of course)or not. Not much has changed but now it’s my friend Jeff that gets recognized everywhere he goes on behalf of the paper…and I always run through the sprinkler in the backyard these days. Thank you Jeff for the article!

Twitt