I called my mom the other day and it came as no surprise that she was out and about tooling around in the middle of nowhere central Florida. She’s a sucker for thrift stores and antiques and loves to tell me about all of the little gems she finds across town. (I use the word “town” very liberally – think of the teeny tiniest little countryside built on a bunch of lakes. One grocery store and I’m pretty sure a single sheriff. Very cute and very Southern.) She’ll read off a grocery list of her latest finds, always followed by, “and guess how much?!?!?!?” A brief pause usually follows, I give my best guess and nine times out of ten she responds with an answer somewhere between $4.00 and $9.00. Occasionally she’ll splurge, but my mom can usually find anything for a steal and whether you need it or not, you now have two. It’s her claim to fame and it gives her a bigger high than a nitrous oxide mask.
So anyway, I call my mom and ask what she was looking for on this particular bargain hunt. “A pickle jar,” she says.
“I’ve been looking for a cute little pickle jar and I want something old fashioned.” I was a little surprised, but thought that was awesome because never in a million years could I imagine my mom pickling away her own cukes. I started to picture her wearing a fancy apron and singing along to The Sound of Music while she frolicked around the kitchen plucking cardamom, mustard seed and vinegar from the shelves. At some point she stops to peer out the window towards the lake and a blue jay lands on the windowsill.
“Wow, look at you. Making your own pickles. You go girl.”
Then very quickly she said with a laugh, “Oh hell no. You know I don’t care about all of that stuff. I just don’t want to keep lookin’ at the Vlassic jar in my fridge. I’d rather put my pickles in somethin’ a little prettier.”
Clearly, Mom got the antique gene that I avoid like the plague and my passion for cooking skipped over her generation completely.
Love ya, Mama. Even though you’re crazy.
I love your mom!!!!!
On a somewhat related note, I have actually been thinking about making my own pickles. This is due to an unfortunate incident at a little deli in NY where I ate this poor shop owner out of all her homemade pickles and then she asked me to leave. Sad, yes. But it has inspired me to maybe try to make my own.
Got any recipes for that???
The……..hills are alive…….la la la dee dee da……
Ah, you are a delight, my daughter. We live in North Florida now, though, remember? Central Florida lost its charm in the 70’s with the arrival of Disney World…. But up in these parts, you can still find an antique pickle jar (or whatever it was originally – I prefer to deem it a pickle jar) for $6.00 – yes, a whooping $6.00. How exciting is that? And, you are by far the best cook I know. Even if you do enjoy back- home, one-pot, 3-4 ingredient meals from Mama……As long as you can put drop biscuits or corn bread with it, we’re on it – and I can’t wait to share some chicken and dumplings with you soon. I love you to pieces! And I’m tickled to be your Pickle Lady! xoxoxo Mama