pickles Archives - Good Food St. Louis

An old-fashioned bread and butter pickle sandwich.

Pickle Packin’ Mama

My mother made bread and butter pickles every summer—jars and jars. I loved ’em. They were so crisp and tangy and spruced up many a sandwich.

It wasn’t until years after I was married, that I attempted pickle making on my own. A college professor in my church made what he called a 30-day pickle. Even now, it’s the best I’ve ever had.

I know there are 9-10-12-14-16 and 24-day pickles. Some take a mere 24 hours. But 30 days! This was the longest I’d ever heard of.

Pack No Pickle Before Its Time

In my prime as a housewife, I figured if my friend could make this recipe, so could I. So I assembled all the ingredients: alum, pickling spice, and vinegar, as well as a large crock. The process called for periodic draining and additions of fresh water.

What a pain to go to the basement at a scheduled time for 30 days to tend the cucumbers until they decided to pickle. It was like caring for a new puppy.

I only made my friend’s pickles once. I even lost the recipe, perhaps intentionally, so I’d never be tempted to take on 30-day pickles again.

The vast assortment of condiments at the Kirkwood Farmers’ Market.

Finding the Perfect Pickle

As I viewed the Kirkwood pickle collection, I was overcome with nostalgia. I quickly added a jar of the bread and butter to my cart.

Since then, I’ve added them to sandwiches like I did as a kid. (At the time, I also put them atop my mashed potatoes, a dining faux pau my mother frowned upon.)

The Birth of Bread and Butter Pickles

While looking at the label on my jar of newly purchased pickles, I wondered how they got their name. When I asked Siri, she had several answers. Take your pick of these pickle stories.

During the Depression an Illinois farmer traded his wife’s canned pickles for bread and butter at the local store. (My favorite explanation)
The name started in England to describe a tea sandwich made with slices of cucumber between buttered bread.
It was an easily made, cheap sandwich leftover from the 20’s.

I Gave It a Try

Some pickle purists put slices betwixt buttered bread. Since I’d never eaten pickles exclusively on a sandwich, I made one. I buttered white bread and added a forkful of my Kirkwood bread and butter pickles. I cut the bread to look like a finger sandwich. It was tasty, but, to tell the truth, I prefer my pickles on a BLT or burger rather than as a stand alone sandwich.

One I Didn’t Try

Peanut butter sandwich with bread and butter pickles. Hmm. . . I don’t know about this one. Elvis left the pickles off his favorite sandwich and went with bananas and peanut butter instead.

A burger and fries at Winslow’s Home comes with house-made dill pickles.

I was sitting on the patio at Winslow’s Home on Delmar, when my hamburger arrived. It was massive and messy, oozing with such delights as caramelized onions, pimento cheese, bacon jam, and lettuce. It took some restructuring before I could get it under control. Underneath it all, there was a bit of green showing. I pushed the fries aside and found two, large chunks of pickle. I could tell right away it wasn’t the typical spear or slice that comes from a commercial gallon jar.

Peter Piper Packed a Peck of Perfect Pickles

Normally, I pass on the pickles thrown onto a burger platter to give the appearance of a balanced meal, but these struck a memory chord. Once upon a time, I had made pickles. Back then, I was young, foolhardy and willing to attempt anything in the kitchen. The recipe I used came from my friend Howard, a math professor, who made pickles every year. It was an old Arkansas recipe that required 30-days of pampering sliced cucumbers with various additives until they were crispy and crunchy. I suspect the same results could’ve been achieved in 14 days, or even 7, but I never pressed the point.

I was so proud of my home-canned pickles. You’d have thought I’d won a blue ribbon at the county fair. But it was far more work than I was willing to put in every year, so I returned to Heinz and enjoyed an occasionally gift from Howard.

It took just one bite to know that I had found a proper pickle.

Pickle Perfect

I picked up one of the Winslow pickles from my hamburger plate and bit into it. Tears came to my eyes. It was as near to what Howard made as I had ever found. When I inquired of my server, I learned that I was eating a slightly sweet dill variety made at the restaurant. And, no, they didn’t bottle them for sale. When I told him I was interested in writing a post about my discovery, he talked to the chef, and arranged for me to purchase a small container of the pickles.

Sweet dill pickles

Sharing the Joy

I was so thrilled as I headed back down Delmar with a bag of pickles in the seat beside me. I was on my way to see my friend Judy, who is 90 and lives at McKnight Place. We’ve cooked many a lunch together at various clubs and church events in Rolla. You might say we’re longtime food buddies. I took the container in with me and told her my pickle story. Her eyes lit up; she wanted to give them a try. We found a couple of forks and together enjoyed a taste testing like we might have done with a new recipe fresh from the oven years ago. Judy pronounced the chunks as crispy as any she’d ever eaten. (Crisp is good in pickles.)

It’s been awhile since I found a pickle that suits me like this one and comes with so many fond memories. Apparently, they’re served at Winslow’s Home only with the hamburger, that is, unless you can negotiate for some on another dish. It’s definitely worth a try.

My son, Tom, packing pickles.

My nephew, Bobby Carnahan, makes bread and butter pickles each year and my son, Tom, tried his hand at making dills a few years ago. I encourage all home pickle packers, knowing that most of them tend to over stock and are generous in sharing their bounty with those appreciative of the art.