Apparently I'm all about food these days. Fall does that to me.
When we went on our annual pumpkin patch/raspberry picking trip a few weeks back we stopped in at Mom's Country Orchard like we always do as our last stop. We got some fruit and honey (local & pesticide free) and a caramel apple too. And a pickle. The pickle. The best pickle we have ever had. So we bought the rest in the jar and ate them on the drive home. Fought over them.
We talked to the son ("Mom" was also there, it is a true family run operation) and told him his pickles were the best ever. He makes them using cucumbers and herbs that he grows. We asked him if he ever thought about turning his pickles into a larger business, bottling them and distributing them. He simply replied, "No, because then the quality would go down." It was then that I decided I must find a way to be adopted into that family.
I talked about it the whole way home in fact. About how I want to leave the city and run an apple orchard and make pickles. I asked my husband, "Do you think if I just showed up at their door they'd let me hang out with them?" And even, "Do you think I could marry into that family somehow? You could come with." He just laughed at me and told me he could see I was having one of my "rustic lifestyle crushes" again.
But back to the pickles. The best pickles in the whole world. He gave us the recipe. Just gave it to us. How cool is that?
So I may not run an apple orchard, but I make pickles! Okay, that is totally a lie. My husband made these pickles, I merely watched with a baby on my hip. Damn they are good. The best ever.