About Fried Pickles.....

   This past fall, some friends and I attended the Hudson Valley Sheep and Wool Festival. While we enjoyed the day we spent there, one of the foods we sampled was fried pickles. They were sliced up and battered, then deep fried. At first, I wouldn't even consider eating one. But as my friends dug in, I decided to give one a try. They were actually pretty good, surprise surprise!

   One of the ladies was a southern girl, and she's the one who bought the pickles. She had fond memories of eating them when she was a kid. It turns out the New York version wasn't as tasty as the southern version, but we native New Yorkers enjoyed them all the same.

   Last night, at our anniversary dinner, Billy Bob's BBQ had fried pickles on the menu as an appetizer. I decided to order some, against Hubs' wishes. He wouldn't even watch me eat them. Instead of slices, these came as spears! There were six of them, representing 1.5 pickles. The batter they were coated in was very tasty, and the dipping sauce was excellent! I would recommend them to anyone eating there!

   That said, I can now confess that the fracking pickles messed with me all night. ALL. NIGHT. Every time I woke up, I was burping, and I could taste them. I must confess here and now that even after the Night of the Pickles, I would not hesitate to order them again. They tasted that good!

    To be honest, Hubs told me I could order anything my little heart desired. He just really hates pickles. He doesn't even know why, and we can't figure out what kind of pickle trauma he must have suffered as a child. He told me of a nightmare he had once, the night before a work pizza party. He dreamed that all the pizza's, every last one of them, were covered with pickle slices. And he opened every single box and looked.

    Now all of you, go to bed and dream of fried pickles!!