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Sour, salty juice turns into iced refreshment
By Lisa Abraham
Beacon Journal food writer
Published on Wednesday, May 21, 2008
I'm in a pickle.
We all are actually — smack in the middle of International Pickle Week.
The funny thing about this week is that it actually spans 11 days, May 16 to 26.
I have to admire the marketing genius who decided to create an 11-day weeklong celebration for the pickle, of all things.
I love pickles. Of course, if you read this column with any regularity, by now you are probably asking yourself, ''Exactly what food doesn't this woman love?'' There are a few, but I'll save those for another column.
Pickles offer such variety, from the sweetest miniature gherkin to the biggest, fattest kosher dill, and they always seem to round out a sandwich just right. Plus, they're really low fat, which makes them a good diet food.
Because I do like pickles, I was intrigued by a product pitch that came through my
e-mail box for the Pickle Sickle, which was the creation of a Texas roller rink owner.
It seemed to me that if I was going to try out the Pickle Sickle, this was the 11-day week to do it, so I could at once be both international and timely.
Two Pickle Sickles arrived at my desk in a padded envelope, secured inside in a zipper-lock bag. I was surprised. I had been expecting a box with dry ice, but quickly learned that the Pickle Sickle was more like Fla-Vor-Ice than Popsicle. You have to freeze it
and there's no stick.
Since there were two, I took them home, froze them, and then approached my husband with what was sure to be the best offer he would have within this 11-day pickle period. Did he want to taste-test with me?
He wasted no time turning up his nose and declining the offer, thereby ruining his best chance this spring to be as international as his wife.
I cut off the end, pushed the frozen pickle juice up through the plastic sleeve and opened my mouth. It was dill at first lick, followed by sour, salty, and then just icy coolness. Not surprisingly, it tasted just like frozen pickle juice. But it was strangely refreshing and tasty.
I kept wondering about other applications of the pickle pop. Would it quell that 3 p.m. hunger pang that plagues every office worker? Would it refresh after a jog like Gatorade does? Could I find someone to actually take a jog and then try it out for me?
But mostly, I was wondering, who drinks pickle juice?
Apparently a lot of people, especially in Texas, where it's not considered too unusual. It's also a favorite among children, which shouldn't surprise anyone who has looked at the sour flavors of a candy counter lately.
John Howard sold pickles at a Seguin, Texas, roller rink/arcade and started freezing the leftover juice for the kids who skated there. The frozen pickle juice sold out every night, which caused Howard to consider that maybe there was a market for frozen pickle juice. About a year ago, he partnered with Californian David Millar and the Pickle Sickle was born.
Since then Howard has sold his roller rink to focus his full attention on the Pickle Sickle. The pops are made from squeezing whole pickles and recently won the approval of the USDA as a vegetable product for sale in schools.
Nationwide marketing of the Pickle Sickle has begun and it may not be long before they are on store shelves in Ohio. For now though, Internet sales are the only way to get the pops here.
Just like an episode of Barnaby Jones, however, the tale of the Pickle Sickle has an epilogue.
It seems a few months ago, the people from Popsicle had the people from Pickle Sickle in a pickle of their own over the name. They felt that Pickle Sickle sounded just a bit too much like Popsicle and made their case for trademark protection.
Pickle Sickle agreed to change the name of the product to Bob's Pickle Pop.
If you're a pickle person and would like to pucker up to one of these pops, visit http://www.bobspicklepops.com, where they can be ordered for $17.95 for a box of 16.
Until next week, have fun in the kitchen, where hopefully, you won't find yourself in a pickle.
Lisa A. Abraham can be reached at 330-996-3737 or labraham@thebeaconjournal.com.
I'm in a pickle.
Get the full article here.
