I cast magic pickle
I initiated pickles over the weekend. These aren’t like the supermarket pickles with the vinegar (though those are good too). They’re deli style, cured only with lactic acid fermentation in brine. If you’ve ever had a deli pickle with a fizzy, sour taste to it, you know what I’m talking about.
I think they might turn out a little soft because I had to freeze the cucumbers until I had enough; my vines only put out like two or three a week. Also, the cucumbers are weird-looking. Like, deformed. Post-nuclear-apocalypse deformed. Twisted, mocking blasphemies of cucumberness. Like something from a Lovecraftian cucumbrous nightmare. Like demon fruit shat forth in darkness by the shuddering hands of a blind idiot god. In their fevered hallucinations, the shrieking denizens of sanitariums for the criminally insane see these hellwrought cucumbers, their very existence a wailing, mocking affront to God and nature. Seriously, some funny-looking cucumbers.
