They were one of Grandma specialties: round and bright green, crunchy, deeply sweet with a hint of sour. 

It’s both a little disconcerting and pleasantly humorous that I realize I could be describing either a certain kind of candy ... or pickles. And I’m definitely talking about pickles. 

This Grandma’s specialty candies are the pink Canada mints, Good ‘N’ Plenty licorices, and M&M “vitamins” from the bookshelf dispenser. Just reminiscing about her sweets makes me miss her incredibly sweet self, far away in southern Alabama. 

But as much as I love her and as much as I love her pickles, I will never make them. I was just asking my mom where to find the recipe, and she wondered if I was going to make some: “Absolutely not!” I replied. I will always remember the distinct crispness of those radiantly dyed-green slices, the way that addictively sweet and sour combination forces you to fork a couple more out of the jar when you thought you were done. They are the best featured in a little “sandwich” my family used to eat alongside soup: a club cracker, a slice of cheese, a sweet pickle. I grew up assuming everyone ate pickles like that. 

But like I said, while they are perfect for what they are, deliciously full of nostalgia right alongside flavor and texture, I will never be able to bring myself to make them. First of all, looking at the recipe for Crystallized Pickles, I’m not even sure where to get household/pickling lime (okay, I’ve also never looked). Second, there’s not nearly enough difference in the poundage of cucumbers versus sugar — the line between candy and pickles is far too blurry. And third, it takes three days. I am not one to shrink from major kitchen tasks by any means, and clearly it’s not three days of active labor, but this growing baby is sapping all my motivation and I’d just rather not. 

So there’s that. And honestly, except for Mini Wheat’s first trimester, I have never been a pickle person. Brian needs them at very specific yet infrequent intervals in his life, so he rarely ever pulls them out of the fridge; and while Benson does like a pickle here and there, I’m not interested in making a batch for him when all I’d have to do is ask if he’d like a frozen banana instead and he’d forget about pickles immediately. 

However, here I am writing about pickles, so clearly I’m not against them. But after too many batches of canned pickles that are not crisp (because I didn’t follow directions) and that sit down on the shelf in the fruit room for too many years (because it’s never the right moment to eat them), I’ve discovered that refrigerator pickles are my style. They stay delightfully crisp and are full of vinegary tang, and the jar or two I make will be almost enough to last us until I make more next year — and while I hate to admit it, I could even buy a jar of pickles for Brian if I needed to. This year my volunteer dill was so energetic it turned into a forest, and I traded a bag of it to a neighbor in exchange for a jar of the pickles it was going into: the best of all worlds as far as I can tell. 

So while my grandchildren will never have the opportunity to think fondly of my pickles, if I’m half as sweet as my grandma and her pickles, we’ll be in good shape.

Not a big dill refrigerator pickles

These pickles don’t take a long time nor do they make too much — just two quarts. They do take up refrigerator space, but just a few minutes of prep and a few days of waiting result in crispy, crunchy, tangy slices or spears. If you don’t have fresh dill available, a couple tablespoons of dried dill seed and/or weed will suffice. If you also need a little sweet in your pickle, add up to a cup of sugar to the vinegar before pouring it in the jars for a nice in-between sweet and sour. 

Prep tips: It has been hot, which can make cucumbers bitter, so just taste the cukes before you use them; peel off any yellow skin as necessary. I use a mandoline to get nice even slices, and I always use a cut-resistant glove to protect my fingers. 

• 8 cups sliced or “speared” cucumbers

• Optional: 1 small onion, sliced

• 2 tablespoons salt

• 6ish heads of dill seed

• 2 tablespoons pickling spice mix

• 1+ cup white vinegar

In a large bowl, cover cucumbers, onion, and salt with water; let set an hour.

Meanwhile, add dill and pickling spice to glass jar(s). 

Once veg are ready, scoop them out and press into the jars. Add vinegar, and then some of the saltwater/more vinegar until cucumbers are covered. Lid tightly and refrigerate for at least five days and up to five months. 

Amanda Miller lives with her husband, 2-year-old son, and whoever else God brings them through foster care on the family dairy farm in Hutchinson. She enjoys doing some catering, teaching cooking classes, and freelancing, but mostly chasing after her kid(s). Reach her at hyperpeanutbutter@gmail.com.