Day 249

Ginger Lime Pickle

I got home from a long day at the salt mines without enough energy to whip up an exciting new food. So I went to my emergency supply shelf. The only things there were that damn jar of borscht I still haven’t eaten and a lonely container of something called ginger lime pickle. I actually groaned when I saw it. But god hates a coward. So I slapped it down on the counter between my husband and me as we were enjoying a fine-dining specialty of mine: leftovers on a shingle. The label didn’t shed much light on what was inside — if you don’t count the headlining lime and ginger. It looked like a reddish slurry with unidentifiable grape-sized blobs floating in it. (Upon closer inspection, I’ve decided they’re some sort of hot pepper.) And the jar didn’t offer much by way of serving tips. Adrift in a sea of culinary ignorance, we decided on saltines as the tasting vehicle — since my husband claimed trying a tiny bit of this extra spicy stuff on my finger didn’t count as an authentic try. But after a scoop on a cracker he was treated to a show with his dinner — my gasping, gagging, spitting trip to the garbage can.


One Comment to “Day 249”

  1. Never heard of it but I bet I would like it.

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