One my favorite scenes from a movie is of a judge, at a fair, tasting prize winning homemade pickles from jars. Its the vision of one of my savory summer time snacks lined up in front of the judges, the sound of the snap! as he bites into each one and then the munching from the front of his teeth with his tongue systematically tasting in between bites. Thmunnnkkkk, thunmmmk, crunch!, sleeerrrrp, thmunkkk, thmunkkk, thmunkkkk.
My love of dill pickles might just have started with the scene from State Fair. Grandpa Bee was the one would made me a die hard fan. Sweet Pickles. Bread and Butter Pickles. What are those? Dill is the only kind for this gal. The kind that resist against your teeth as you sink into them with a satisfying crunch as it splits the tangy juice right into your mouth.
My Grandma Bee always kept dill pickles on hand for Grandpa and bread and butter for herself and the rest of the crowd. I’m glad that I was able to share my love of Dill pickles with my grandpa.
As the years are passing by, my Grandma Bee is slowly bestowing her household treasures to the family. Whenever someone in the family would say that they liked an item of Grandma’s she would call out “Put your name on it!” She would hand them a piece of paper, pen and tape. She was serious! Her theory was that when she dies, the family will know exactly who gets what. Its the old game of calling shotgun even before your out the door to the car.
As my Aunt Jeanne and Grandma were recently doing another round of handing items out, they came across a pickle dish that just called my name! After moving across the country and not living in a permanent place, I have discarded many things and spurned the buying or receiving of items that I will have to tote around. I just couldn’t send this piece back though. It is one of the few items that does hold meaning, memories and love all wrapped up into one.
I have yet to use it for the actually consumption of pickles, instead it has become the holder of receipts on my desk. Soon enough though, I will clean it off and have a pickle party just to celebrate a piece of cut crystal with all its tangy goodness!
Many lunches were served on my Grandma Bee’s table with pickles as sides. Thank you to my Grandma (and Grandpa) for teaching me
the art of hosting guests.