As a child I LOVED pickles - LOVED THEM - And right from the get go.
But as a child with diabetes, pickles were a free food - And I equated pickles with being normal and the freedom to go all ape crazy when it came to eating them.
Also: I'm a bit of an oddball adult and was mostly likely an oddball kid - But diabetes had nothing to do with that ;)
|Latest farmers market pickle purchases - |
Pickled jalapenos and dill chipotle pickles & onions ~
And when my mom and I made those rare (but not as rare as you might think,) visits to McDonald's as a child, I always asked for extra pickles on my cheeseburger - ALWAYS - And I got them.
Meals at any diner meant me asking for the pickles on my parents plates - And most of the time they'd give them to me - Or split them with me.
And if the pickle wasn’t crunchy - I had no use for it.
When I was diagnosed with diabetes, pickles took on a whole new meaning.
I distinctly remember the feeling of extreme relief when I learned in third grade that even though I had diabetes, pickles were indeed a free food.
The ADA Diabetes Diet Exchange poster was tacked up right behind my seat at the dinner table & when I learned that my pickles were free food, I drew stars and exclamation points all around the word PICKLES.
Pickles (along with raw carrots, sweet peppers and cucumbers of course. (and sugar free JELLO, mustard and ketchup) didn’t need to be counted, measured or weighted - Pickles were mine for the taking and I took them!
AND AS soon as someone would say pickles I'd immediately say FREE FOOD! And even to this day, I still say that without even thinking!
Sometimes as a kid I'd eat so many pickles my stomach would hurt and my mom would put the kebash on my pickle intake for a while.
But kudos to my mom for understanding that pickles = some weird normalcy in my diabetes world. So we always had a jar of pickles or two in the fridge.
The summer before I entered 8th grade my parents and I took a trip to Canada to visit my Uncle Roy, my mother’s older brother. We ended up going to a BBQ at my uncle’s friends - I can’t remember their names, but I do remember that the wife made amazing baby to medium sized dill pickles from scratch and she sent me with a big jar filled with her homemade pickles. And that pickle filled jar made 13 hour car ride back to NJ - And all in one piece.
The following Christmas when we went back to my Uncle's to celebrate the holiday. And when we arrived there were 3 giant jars of homemade pickles with my name on them in the fridge, courtesy of the nice Canadian pickle lady.
Over the years my palate matured and I developed an affinity for little french cornichons and pickled hot peppers and onions - Even pickled spicy carrots - which I didn’t think I’d like, but I totally did.
10 years ago when I started gardening in earnest and began growing cucumbers (along with tomatoes, hot peppers and squash) I developed whole new respect for pickle manufacturers.
Pickles are cucumbers - everybody know that. And cucumbers grow so damn fast that in one day you can go from a baby dill sized cucumber/future pickle to a medium.
Yep ,the pick time window of opportunity for a particular pickle is limited and the art of pickles was more complex than it seemed - Sort of like diabetes - which is probably another subconscious reason I associate pickles with diabetes.
How about you - What's your deal with pickles? Do you like them? Do you hate them?
Do you associate them as being a free food when it comes to life with D?