I feel obligated to want pickles at some point in the next few months. Generally, I don’t like pickles. Not on my cheese burger, not as a nasty relish, and certainly not soaking my grilled cheese. However, every now and then when I visit my parents I will opt for pickles on my taco. (Weird? Yes. My mom claims pickles are what you are supposed to put on your taco….according to her brother who served a mission in some taco eating country. I think the joke might be on her….who knows).
Several times in the past few months I’ve looked at the pickles in the grocery store. I’m tempted to buy some but I don’t know what kind! There are so many! There are the “bread and butter” pickles (who came up with that term?) which I know I don’t like. There are dill. There are gherkins. And somewhere in there I’m sure there’s a “sweet” something. All I know is I like them small and crisp…not soggy. Ah, what to get?! Kosher, for sure!
Then I think to myself, “I don’t really want pickles! It just seems like the right thing to do.”