It’s the height of summer and things are looking at their best. Vegetables and fruit are being harvested, while floral summer displays are showing off their frills and colours. Continue reading “What a Pickle!”
‘Soph?.. Soph!.. Soopphh?’.. Silence. It would appear Soph’s out, which means, the kitchen’s mine! MUHAHAHA!
Unfortunately, Agent Soph had to work at the weekend, so I took the opportunity to down the garden tools and pick up the kitchen utensils. With my four varieties of beetroot, Boltardy, Pablo, Golden Globe and Chioggia, bursting out of their beds I thought I’d lift some of the Chioggia variety and see how they taste pickled.
Although Soph rules the kitchen with an iron spatula, conjuring up majestic meals to bathe your tastebuds in an unrestrained orgy of taste and satisfaction (brownie points for me, I think), when it comes to pickling, that’s where I come in. In the last few years I’ve tinkered, sprinkled and constantly refined my recipe in order to obtain the ultimate pickling liquor. But it wasn’t until last year that my dabbling into the vinegar dark arts finally paid off. With the liquor cracked and the recipe safely locked away in the Agents of Field vault (not even Soph knows my secret), this year, it’s all about finding the perfect beetroot.
I’ve always used the faithful and tasty Boltardy, but now with a larger allotment I’m trying different varieties of crops and breaking away from the usual suspects. So first up, the Chioggia Beetroot. Unlike the brooding Boltardy, this camp little fella is about colour. With orange-pink skins and a red and white ringed interior, this root wants to be seen. So how could he not look good in a pickling jar?
A couple of hours in the kitchen and my first batch of the year were cooling in their sterilised jars. Although the ring effect may have gone, I still think they look pretty good. How they’ll taste, only time will tell. Now to tidy the kitchen before Soph gets home. ‘Shhh! You haven’t seen me, right?’