I Can Pickle That!

Every summer, I tell myself that its the last time I'm planting cucumbers. And every summer, I find myself buried under a mountain of cucumbers. Last year I planted four cucumber plants and by the end of July I never wanted to see another cuke again. Out of necessity, I learned to make pickles and it opened my eyes to the glorious world of homemade brined vegetables. This year I was smart and planted two Kirby cucumber plants, which is a variety specifically designed for pickling. When the giant dill pickle balloon is flying over the Rachel Carson bridge in downtown Pittsburgh, welcoming people to our annual Picklesburgh festival in July, its time to kick into full pickle production mode.

So far, I've harvested at least 40 cucumbers from two plants that I started in early May. The first batch became sour pickle chips with a simple vinegar brine. This basic recipe calls for equal parts of white distilled vinegar and water, with a little salt and whatever flavorings you like. You can add garlic, peppercorns, dill seed or even dill sprigs to enhance the flavor. I also made 12 jars of bread & butter pickles based on the recipe I used last summer. Click here to read about it. But the ones I am most proud of are the fermented pickles that spent a week sitting in a bowl on my kitchen counter. This was my first attempt at fermented pickles and I am awed by how authentic they taste. 

Fermented vegetables were a staple in the diets of my eastern European Jewish ancestors. The fermentation process allows the natural sugars in the vegetables to turn into lactic acid, which creates an acidic environment that prevents the growth of bacteria that would normally cause food to spoil. Its an easy and inexpensive way to preserve foods for extended periods of time, which is great for long, harsh winters. The crunch and sharpness of brined veggies also makes an excellent counterpoint to the often bland meat & potato based diets that were common in places like Poland and Russia. When immigrants came to America from eastern Europe, they brought this tradition with them and the kosher dill pickle became a popular street food and standard fair in Jewish delicatessens. The cucumbers were washed and stacked in barrels with dill, garlic, spices, salt and clean water and left to ferment in a relatively warm place for a few weeks or even a few months. The longer they sit in the brine, the more flavorful they become. I grew up on those pickles and have vivid memories of fishing them out of the huge barrel at Tabachnick's deli. 

FERMENTED PICKLES

10 large pickling cucumbers

5 cups clean water, filtered or distilled

5 tbsp pickling salt

5 large sprigs of fresh dill or a tablespoon of dill seeds

5 cloves of garlic

About 20 black peppercorns

2 bay leaves

2 grape leaves or horseradish leaves (optional)

There is quite a bit of science behind the perfect naturally fermented pickle and they deliver health benefits that shelf-stable vinegar brined pickles do not. Fermented foods are an excellent source of probiotics, which are essential for gut health and aid in digestion as well as boosting your immune system. Fermentation helps break down cellulose in the skin and seeds of the vegetables, making them easier to digest. Because pickles are highly acidic, bad things like e.coli are unable to survive in that environment. A word of caution, however, while the ingredients and preparation are very simple, there are plenty of things that can go wrong. The more you know, the less likely you will end up with mushy or even moldy pickles. 

First, choose the right cucumber. Look for varieties that are bred specifically for pickling, like Kirby or Alibi. If you use standard slicing cucumbers, which have thinner skins and more moisture, your pickles may turn to mush. Pickling varieties are smaller, shorter, have thicker skin and less moisture, which allows them to soak up the brine more effectively. Second, make sure you use the right salt. Ordinary table salt contains iodine and other chemicals that can interfere with the fermentation process. Kosher salt will work, but pickling salt also contains an enzyme that inhibits the growth of bacteria. Make sure the salt you use does not contain iodine. Finally, the addition of tannin will help keep your pickles crisp, which is where the bay leaves, grape leaves or horseradish leaves come in. I was extremely fortunate because my husband decided to grow horseradish in the garden this year, so I was able to use a leaf in my pickles. However, horseradish leaves will probably be impossible to find, but grape leaves are available in the specialty section of your grocery store. If you can't find them, use a couple extra bay leaves. They'll help keep your pickles crunchy and add a little extra flavor. 

Fermented pickles, day 1

So that's it. Are you ready to pickle? Before you begin, wash your cukes really well in cold water and make sure you remove any remaining bits of blossom. Leave your cucumbers whole for this preparation to make sure the brine doesn't break down the flesh too quickly. Find a nice, deep bowl or large jar in which your cucumbers will fit snugly. The cucumbers need to stay completely submerged in the brine and not be exposed to any air or they'll mold. I used a deep earthenware bowl that I covered with plastic wrap, but if you have a deep bowl with a lid, that would work well. For every cup of water, use one tablespoon of salt and heat the water up slightly just to dissolve the salt more easily. Also, if your cucumbers are really cold, the warm water will help them come to room temperature more quickly. Add the salt, garlic, bay leaves, dill seed and peppercorns to the water and warm it up over low heat. In the bottom of your bowl, place a couple sprigs of dill and half of the grape leaf or horseradish leaf. Place the cucumbers in the bowl, making sure you have enough room so they will be completely submerged in the brine. Once the salt is dissolved, pour the brine over the cucumbers and put the rest of the dill and the other half of the grape or horseradish leaf on top. If the cukes float, place a small plate over them to make sure they stay below the surface of the liquid. Cover your container with plastic wrap and find a spot that's out of the way to let them ferment. The best temperature for this process is between 68 and 72 degrees, so don't let them get too cold or too hot. 

Fermented pickles, day 5

It was so difficult for me to be patient and for the first few days, I looked at my pickles a couple times a day. On the third day, I took one out of the brine and sliced it. The color had changed slightly from its original bright green to a duller, more olive color. It was starting to ferment, but still tasted mostly like a cucumber. On the fifth day, the brine began to look cloudy and little bits of foam were floating on the surface. This is a normal bi-product of fermentation and I decided to have another taste. If you've ever eaten a half-sour, you'll know what my pickle tasted like after five days in the brine. It was still quite crunchy and tasted like a cucumber, but the brine had definitely penetrated the skin and that classic deli-style pickle flavor was developing.

Fermented pickles, day 8

On the eighth day, I tasted again and this time they were perfect. Still crunchy, very briny, sour and complex, I had succeeded in fermenting my own pickles. They were soft, but not mushy and there was a pleasant tingle when I bit into the slice. They tasted exactly like the kosher dill pickle of my youth. I took the remaining seven pickles out of the bowl, put them in containers, poured the brine over them and set them in the fridge. Since the garden is still in full production, this won't be the last batch of fermented pickles I'll be making this year. I'm looking forward to sharing my briny prize with friends and family.

First Harvest Dinner

It was a Friday night in June and we had no dinner plans. To be fair, it had been an unusually busy week with both of us working extra hours. The following day my radio station was holding our largest annual event, a big concert with six bands in a beautiful park in the middle of Pittsburgh's university district. I hadn't really been thinking about our dinner plans for the evening before Summer Music Festival. Yet there we were, sitting in the living room debating our options of mediocre Chinese take-out, a trip to the grocery store for some frozen or prepared foods or making due with what I had on hand. My husband was ambivalent.

I stood in the kitchen at about 6:30 that evening, my stomach softly rumbling, and stared into the empty abyss of the refrigerator. We had eggs, a head of cabbage and and a couple of apples. The pantry held a little more promise with a can of Italian San Marzano tomatoes and a couple boxes of pasta. Combined with good olive oil, some of the grated Parmesan cheese I unearthed from the fridge and a whole bunch of herbs from my garden, I could make a nice, light and fresh tasting tomato sauce and serve it with angel hair pasta. Voila, dinner would be served.

For a decent tomato sauce, onion and garlic are necessary ingredients, but alas, my fridge was uncharacteristically devoid of onions and I had two pathetic dried out cloves of garlic on hand. That's when my brilliant, handsome and resourceful husband chimed in with "hey, we have a whole bunch of onions and garlic growing in the garden". I seriously need to marry that guy. This is the first year we've attempted to grow onions and its early in the season. The garlic had just put out their shoots a few weeks prior, so we figured they'd be underdeveloped. Gloves and trowel in hand, I ventured out to see if I could harvest enough goodies to make this sauce happen. I pulled up two small onions and a puny garlic bulb, but also decided to harvest the one fairly large Japanese eggplant we had in the garden. With veggies procured, combined with handfuls of fresh basil, oregano and parsley, I was ready to go to work.

TOMATO SAUCE WITH EGGPLANT

1 12 oz. can good quality whole peeled Italian tomatoes
1 cup chopped fresh eggplant
1/2 cup finely chopped onion
1 tbsp minced garlic
2 tbsp olive oil
1/4 cup each chopped fresh basil, parsley and oregano
Salt, black pepper and red pepper flakes to taste

Honestly, this sauce is so easy I'm embarrassed to write a blog about it. But there are some fine points that will help you make the very best dinner you can out of these sparse but flavorful ingredients. Normally, when garlic has reached maturity and the bulbs are big and fat, they are harvested and left to dry for a few weeks until the skin become papery and garlic has mellowed. I didn't have that luxury and fresh garlic is extremely assertive. The bulb I dug up was only about the size of a hazelnut, but it stunk up the whole kitchen, so I used half of it. Before starting the sauce, I put a large pot filled with water over medium high heat and added several tablespoons of salt for my pasta. In a medium saucepan, I sauteed the chopped onion with some olive oil, salt, pepper and red pepper flakes just until it was translucent before adding the garlic. While that sauteed, I opened the can of tomatoes and lifted each tomato out of the can into a bowl, leaving the liquid in the can, and I crushed up the tomatoes by hand until all the big pieces were mostly broken down.

Once the garlic and onions began to brown, I added the sliced eggplant and another splash of olive oil and let that cook until the eggplant began to soften, then I added the tomatoes and just a splash of the tomato liquid, turned the heat down to medium low and let it gently simmer for about 15 minutes. I came back and tasted, added a pinch more salt and pepper, a little more tomato liquid and half of the fresh herbs. After 15 minutes, I dropped the pasta into the boiling water and cooked it until it was still a little chewy, about 8 minutes. Before I drained the pasta, I scooped out a cup of the pasta water to loosen the sauce. When you drain your pasta, for goodness sake, don't rinse it!!  Pasta has a thin layer of starch on the outside that allows the sauce to penetrate and stick to it. I drained the pasta into a colander, dumped it back into the pot and scooped the sauce on top. The pasta will taste better if you let it finish cooking in the sauce, so I added about half of the pasta water and put it over medium heat to finish cooking. It only took about 6 minutes for the pasta to absorb the liquid in the sauce and take on its beautiful flavors. Before serving it, I added the rest of the fresh herbs, stirred it all together and admired my work.

We enjoyed our dinner with a little of that grated Parmesan cheese on the top and a glass of chilled sauvignon blanc. It was delicious! The red pepper flakes brought just a little heat and the sauce was sweet, mellow and surprisingly complex. With just a few ingredients and a little imagination, I'd managed to pull a really lovely, light and flavorful dinner out of thin air, thanks to my garden. Even though its early in the season and the garden has just begun to produce, its such a satisfying feeling to cook with the stuff you grow yourself.