Sure, come August, you want the first of the local corn; on a frigid day in February, hot cocoa calls you; and when Memorial Day rolls around again, a burger off the grill is what you crave. But sometimes you have no idea whatsoever that you desire a large sour pickle on a stick until there it is in front of you.
That’s what happened when I stopped at the Snell Family Farm in Buxton on a sweltering day in late July. I came away with what I intended: zucchini, fava beans, cherry tomatoes, string beans. And I came away with one item on a whim: that pickle. It was in a glass jar with its sibling pickles on sticks in a dedicated small refrigerator near the the baked goods and the home-canned items – jams and pickles and such. The pickled garlic scapes tempted me mightily, but they cost $9, and my partner gave me the must-we-go-into-bankruptcy-over-groceries stink eye. The pickle was an affordable $2. I grabbed one.
It must be said that it was messy to eat. It slid down the stick and dribbled pickle juice on our shirts. It must also be said that it had that ideal pickle quality of snap, and that a jumbo pickle, it turns out – sour, cold and bracing – suits a blazing hot day even better than ice cream.
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