Will It Pickle?

As much as I might like to think otherwise, I am not immune to trend-chasing.

Ideally, I would keep this newsletter a proud, independent, iconoclastic voice in the world of food and drink—cementing my place a lone maverick who does things not because they are popular but because they are the right thing to do.

(Y’know, like Cincinnati chili stunts.)

That said, I have become aware of a trend that I simply cannot help but indulge in bandwagoning, and that’s the making of Pickle Lemonade.

A few weeks ago, the New York Times Food section posted about the idea, one they credited to the fine folks at Popeye’s. It’s pretty simple—a near-equal mix of fresh lemon juice, sugar, and the brine from a jar of pickles, then diluted with water to make a salty-sweet-and-sour beverage. It made quite a stir in my corner of the internet, with reactions ranging from intrigue to utter revulsion. I think it probably goes without saying, but I found myself in the former camp; I love pickles, and there was no reason to not believe the combination would in fact work splendidly.

Of course, I had a secondary curiosity to indulge, too.

I bet this would make a good mixer for drinks, I thought.

Lots of cocktails ride off of citrus and sugar, why wouldn’t the sharp, salty brine from a jar of good pickles play well, too? I suspected it might be good with bourbon—I’ve enjoyed pickleback shots at a bar before—but what spirit would it work best with, if any?

I had to investigate. In the name of science.

I pulled a selection of base spirits from my home bar, and set up a simple, straightforward taste test. I’d use the undiluted form of the Pickle Lemonade (juice, brine, sugar, but no additional water) and mix it with each spirit at a 2:1 spirit-to-syrup ratio, shaking with ice to chill.

Observe, my laboratory!

First, the vodka.

I rarely use vodka because frankly, I don’t respect it as a spirit. It brings nothing to the table except for alcohol, which is just not what I’m looking for most of the time. Still, it was the logical starting point, as it would give the most neutral, honest version of Pickle Lemonade as a Cocktail.

It was pretty good!

Unsurprisingly, it tasted like Hard Pickle Lemonade, something I suspect we are less than six months from seeing in the case at the grocery store, should this trend play through to its logical conclusion.

PICKLE LEMONADE VODKA PITCHFORK RATING: 6.8/10

Next up, gin!

I had high hopes for this one. Gin, lemon and sugar are natural friends in drinks like the Tom Collins and Bee’s Knees, but gin also pairs splendidly with brine in a Dirty Martini. With my trusted bottle of Beefeater in hand, I pondered the notion of the British uniting two disparate entities through means other than sloppy colonial border-drawing.

My suspicions were well-founded! This was a lovely pairing, and probably would’ve been even better with a higher-end gin.

PICKLE LEMONADE COLLINS PITCHFORK RATING: 8.1/10

Now, rum.

I don’t even recall when I bought a bottle of Captain Morgan; I found it last weekend when I was organizing the bar. Might’ve been for a holiday punch? Doesn’t matter. Me and the Cap’n are gonna make it happen.

What’s that you say? I’m supposed to be spitting these out after tasting them? Huh.

[mumbling] I should start a band.

What? Oh, yeah, the rum. It was pretty good, I guess.

I WONDER IF HEMINGWAY WOULD HAVE LIKED THIS: 7.2/10

More rum? Sure, why not! If the light stuff works, the dark stuff should work better, right? Well, it kinda did and it kinda didn’t. The taste was good, if a little conflicted, and ultimately it was a waste of barrel-aging; it didn’t have anything up on the cheap stuff above. Also, I couldn’t find anyone to start a band with. Probably because I can’t play an instrument or sing.

NO HE’D PROBABLY TRY TO SHOOT ME: 6.3/10

Okay, now we’re bringing it home to Kentucky, with my preferred spirit and the first thing I thought of when I thought of mixing Pickle Lemonade into a drink: bourbon!

This would be a briny whiskey sour, and that would be delicious, right?

Well, I was a bit surprised: this was actually my least favorite of the whole run. It wasn’t bad, mind you—none of the options were—but it didn’t sing to me, and at this point in the venture, even the bunnies in my backyard were singing to me. This is why you test a hypothesis, folks, and as a genuine Kentucky Colonel, I can never lie about bourbon.

WHAT IF I MADE PAPPY VAN PICKLE, THOUGH? 5.5/10

Finally, a wild card! I had room for one more spirit in the set of six glasses that originally had Costco-brand Tiramisu in them, and I cast my eyes to that Italian summer favorite, Aperol. It’s good in an Aperol Spritz, it’s good in a Spaghett, it’s good in everything. Why not pickle lemonade?

Verdict? It was weird, but in a good way. Or maybe good, but in a weird way? It felt like the signature shot of an Italian beachfront bar run by a Wisconsinite expat.

I liked it, but I cannot justify it.

SALTARE IN GIRO, SALTARE UP, SALTARE SU E SCENDERE: UNDEFINED/10

So, there you have it. Pickle lemonade isn’t bad with any spirit, but it’s very good with gin and intermittently-good with others.

Hey, I think there’s one spirit missing from this discussion?

You know, I think you’re right, but this cold-open is running long. Let me start the newsletter, and then we can double back on that in a minute.

Friends, it’s Friday again at The Action Cookbook Newsletter.

I’ve found myself in quite the pickle today, haven’t I? Never fear—it’s the weekend, and I’ve got a full run of good things for your leisure-time edification today, including an actual Pickle Cocktail, a good use for all those now-orphaned pickles themselves, some great-vibes music, two takes on fake baseball, pets, and more!

Don’t be salty. It’s Friday.

So, what to do with those pickles?

I drained most of the liquid off a jar of pickles—good ones, too, the Grillo’s ones in the deli case—making the pickle lemonade for my experiment above, and I wasn’t about to let those pickles dry out or go to waste.