For those that don’t know, this is from ‘The Sad Bastard Cookbook’. It actually contains some good simple recipes when you are feeling too bad to cook.
I totally did not misread that as “dildo pickle”
How will I know if this good when the recipe is missing a 10,000 word preamble?!?
remember the old saying; wash the blue pill down with a pickle.
Kinda curious about those peanut butter balls, ngl
I genuinely almost tapped the blue link before realising I couldn’t and now I’m slightly sad 😢
Edit: Found the recipe. I’ll stick with haplama
But is it the vinegar sort of the other kind?
Reminds me of Frank Sinatra’s burger recipe.
It’s a shame to not link the source:
The Sad Bastard Cookbook: Food You Can Make So You Don’t Die
I was looking at the URL, misread traumabooks.itch.io, and thought, ‘what a perfect source for that book, I want to see their whole catalog.’ Supremely disappointed.
This is fantastic!
Did this literally 20min ago
Other variations:
Jarred artichoke hearts or roasted peppers.
baby carrots
a square from a giant chocolate bar
poor one 5th of a can of beer into a glass, and leave it in the fridge, and go off to life away from the fridge.Girl dinner
What no long story about some anecdote in your life and how it relates to the recipe? Completely unpalatable! 0/10 will not eat again.
I should buy a block of cheddar and just take bites out of it at 3am. No one can stop me but me.
You forgot an integral part of every recipe on the internet:
I admit it: I’m that person who can’t resist raiding the refrigerator for a fistful of dill pickles—and any other condiments within reach—straight out of the jar. Some might raise an eyebrow at my love affair with briny crunch, but to me, each icy, vinegary bite is a micro-ceremony of flavor, texture, and nostalgia.
Why do I eat condiments like dill pickles cold and unadorned? First, the chill heightens that snap when you bite in. The cold keeps the cell walls of each cucumber shard rigid, delivering a crisp, almost glassy crack that you simply can’t replicate at room temperature. Secondly, the low temperature lurks beneath the vinegar’s tang, tempering its sharpness so the pickle’s herbal, garlicky notes shine through—a symphony of dill tops, mustard seeds, and peppercorns all playing in perfect, icy harmony.
More than pure science, though, is the comfort factor. Those frozen shards whisper childhood memories of lazy summer afternoons, when Mom’s famous potato salad and a jar of Vlasic were all we needed for the picnic blanket feast in the backyard. Today, the ritual remains the same: I open the fridge, grab a cold pickle, and for a moment I’m back under that sunlit maple tree, free and hungry for simple pleasures.
So stick around: in this blog I’ll share not only my pickle-powered musings, but also recipes, quick condiment hacks, and pairing suggestions that celebrate chill—and crisp—whenever you need a flavorful little jolt straight from the fridge.
(AI slop if that wasn’t clear but that way it’s more authentic)
Huh, but it sounds so realistic! My parents also kept their fridge under a sunpit maple tree /s
Kinda curious about those peanut butter balls, ngl
