pickling...or is it canning?

Do you ever have those days where you just feel totally domesticated? Those days where you are totally proud of yourself because you feel you fit the mold of the perfect housewife?

I totally had one of those days yesterday because...

I canned!!!

Or maybe I pickled. I'm not sure of the difference. I canned pickles so maybe the 2 words are interchangeable.

Seriously, never done anything like that before. When I think if canning, I think of jams (gross), fruit (can't I just buy motts) and botulism.

No seriously. Having taken semesters upon semesters of bodily diseases, I am a true botulism phobic.

Anyway, Robin and I are trying a new form of domestication in the form of pickles!

Until yesterday I had never heard of brine (still not totally sure what it is), thought that you still sealed canning jars with wax (apparently that is so old school), and thought you boiled everything you canned (just jam- I think...I'll never know because I'll never do it).

I really knew nothing. I am a canning virgin. My only experience witnessing it was in Sweet Home Alabama when Reese Witherspoon finally hangs out with her mom while trying to forget Patrick Dempsey and Josh Lucas (and let's be honest, that's basically impossible).

I digress.

The reason this all began is because Robin's friend Lorrie makes these amazing pickles. The jars are filled with dill, garlic, and onion. I have never just popped an uncooked raw onion into my mouth before.

Until the pickles.

Joel doesn't like pickles. He won't eat them. But he loves eating just garlic and onion so when we ran out of cucumbers, we made Joel some jars of just garlic and onion.

Any time we've seen Lorrie in the past year, we have selfishly and unashamedly tried to woo pickles out of her.

We eventually drew the conclusion that if we wanted one year of pickle bliss, we'd need to take matters into our own hands.

Again, I digress.

We began with a bushel of cucumbers just made to be pickled.

A bushel.

I don't even know how much that is. This is a bushel:



Then we cried.

And cried some more.

Because we sliced at least 10 of the largest onions you've ever seen. I can't even slice 1/4 of a onion without crying. So 10 was monumental.

We stuffed the jars.

Artistic isn't it?


And 4 hours later...

we had 41 jars of pickles...

(doesn't she look thrilled?!?!)


ready to sit in the basement for 1 month until we can eat them.

Yeah, a month.

Isn't that obnoxiously long?

Mason and I were reliving our canning (or pickling) moments this morning and he asked if we could have pickles tonight.

I told him they'd have to sit in the basement for a long time so they turn yummy.

His reply?

"Stink mom. That's stinks!"

I agree. Sorry that your canning/pickling (???) virgin mom said they'd be ready to eat last night.