Husband’s up to his delicious tricks again, and the Google family calendar entices me with what lies ahead on various dates: Taste the new pickles, Pickled eggs ready, 6 weeks from production of sauerkraut, and so on.
Life in the new house has brought out the man’s inner food scientist, and he dabbles in pickling, canning, and fermenting, tinkering with timing, ingredients, and crisping agents.
Also, we have jars upon jars—all sizes of jars, if you were wondering. (This blog installment could’ve been called Jars.)
“Do we have enough jars yet?” I ask.
“Not really,” Husband says.
Eggplant antipasto, pineapple-turmeric sauerkraut, pickled cauliflower, and pepper jelly have found their spots in our kitchen in recent months, and my man's not even close to done.
The two of us click around on our phones in the evenings. I search for full-body workouts that span mere minutes or watch that knitted toad on Instagram as he flits through his stop-motion life. The guy next to me? He’s researching how to take on a massive epoxy/wood table build or dry age beef at home.
I see a theme. Husband embraces delayed gratification and quality results. I, on the other hand, like the quick way to almost everything. I don't recommend limp pickles, though, so don't copy me. Be like Husband and wait.
The more I consider this blog post, the more I think it's a personal lesson for me I didn't have to drag you through on your Thursday, so carry on with your day.
(But come back next week if you're curious about what else I've learned in the kitchen that likely only applies to me.)
Husband and a few of his jars.
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