Summer is officially over, the local fair just ended, and I have this urge to put up some pickles for the winter.

Why I became obsessed with home canning pickles this year I don’t really know. I suppose it was due in part to a terrible nightmare I suffered one hot August night. I had this vision that I was at home canning peaches and discovered that I was out of time for entering my jars of fruit in the fair. When I got to the fair, the judging was already done, and the blue-ribbon winner already announced. I packed up the peaches and headed home, but never got there. The never-ending dream, a man and his peaches in search of a home.

The nightmare was probably instigated by the events that happened earlier in the day. That day I had attended the Kentucky State Fair in Louisville, one of America’s largest fairs.

The Kentucky State Fair has some unique competitions not found at other fairs--namely the World’s Championship Horse Show, Pipe Smoking Contest and Country Ham contest.

Unfortunately, this year the Pipe Smoking Contest, sponsored by Phillip Morris among others, was cancelled due to the infringement of a new Kentucky state law that dictates that there can be no smoking in any public building, including buildings at the State Fair. This is blasphemy to many citizens of the Bluegrass state--a rather large producer of tobacco--so rather than take their sweet-smelling smoke outside, the organizers of the Pipe Smoking Contest told the fair to shove it down the pipe so to speak.

Country Ham, and the competition to name the best ham, is a subject that merits its own separate story.

In addition to hogs, goats, chickens, turkeys, rabbits, sheep and numerous breeds of beef and dairy cattle, the agricultural exhibit halls of the fair are crowded with all manner of the “Pride of Kentucky”, ranging from bales of aromatic alfalfa, bundles of aged, leathered tobacco and row upon row of handmade quilts.

But for me, the biggest stars of the fair are found in the culinary arts hall, the home of the cakes, pies, breads, candies, cookies, jams and jellies. Row upon row of perfectly packed and canned fruits, vegetables, relishes, and even pickled hogs jowls.

As I stared at the beautiful gems in the jars, I wondered why the little blue ribbon was stuck on Ms. Lucille Dorsey’s corn relish and not on the jar put up by Mrs. Wanda Pratt.

What is it that the judges are looking for? Why is one jar of pickles better than another, what is the key to winning a blue-ribbon and silver tray? As I found out, it tends to be both a matter of taste and experience. Pickles are a very personal thing.

If one reads the premium book for exhibitor’s of the 2002 Kentucky State Fair, one can find part of the answer on page 220. It reads in part, “Pickles and Relish will be judged on the following points; Flavor 50 point, Crispness 35 points, Color 15 points. Jars to be opened during judging.”

In fact, the judges have a lot of jars to open as there are 20 different categories of pickles and relishes to be judged, and even more subcategories. The judges will taste everything from Chow, Chow and Chutney to Bread and Butter Pickles, Mixed Sweet and Mixed Sour. Hundreds of jars of pickles.

Certainly Ms. Dorsey didn’t just start putting cucumbers in jars overnight. To win at the fair she had to have “put-up” her corn relish last Fall and allowed it to cure for nearly a year, just as she has probably done for decades. Canning takes practice and most winners are well over the age of what we think of as retirement, 65 or older usually goes home with a ribbon.

America’s farm families have been canning and preserving foods for generations. Beginning with the first crop of zucchini in June and lasting until the last apple falls from the tree in late September, farmer’s preservd the bounty of the harvest to feed themselves throughout the cold and harsh winter ahead.

The phrase “canned goods” does not necessarily mean that the food is packed in a tin. Rather, the term “canned peaches” defines peaches packed with syrup in a glass jar, or peaches packed in syrup in a can.

Originally, canning was done out of necessity due to a lack of electricity and refrigeration. It was only two generations ago, when my Grandmother was a young woman in 1900, that the family placed their watermelon rind pickles in the “storm cellar.” Electricity wires had not yet reached many parts of rural America, and so the cellar was the means for storing canned and preserved foods. Built underground and fortified with a strong door, the cellar provided a cool, dark, safe haven from the elements.

So given the fact that a) I dreamed about canned peaches; b) I spent a day at the Kentucky State Fair looking at blue ribbon winners; and c) I had a family tie to food packed in vinegar, I was inspired to “put-up” my own pickles this year.

To start, one must have the right equipment. And, like the aforementioned loosely used phrase, “canned,” there is no definitive “canning pot.” You tend to use what your Mother used--a canning pot handed down generation to generation. Likewise, the same jars are used year after year. The only new adornment to the canning wardrobe being a new lid each year.

Modern technology and education about food safety have brought forth a number of advances. Namely, one no longer needs to seal jars of raspberry jam with a layer of paraffin wax on the top of the jar. Actually, I thought that was the fun part of opening Mother’s preserves, breaking that little seal of wax was like poking a stick through the ice over a frozen pond.

The basic equipment you need will be:
-Jars, lids and lid rings
-A large pot used for sterilizing the jars, lids and lid rings.
-A large pot (canning pot) with a metal rack in the bottom, tight fitting lid, and used for processing the filled jars of pickles.
-A variety of kitchen towels, wooden spoons, tongs and a good kitchen timer.

Personally, I use a pressure cooker to process my jars of pickles. A pressure cooker creates an intensely hot steam bath inside the cooker, insuring that the pickles are thoroughly cooked and the lids of the jars sealed. However, pressure cookers tend to scare novice canners (visions of exploding pots of jam inevitably come to mind). That old fashioned blue canning pot your Great Grandmother handed down will do just fine--it has for over a hundred years.

You will find the jars, lids and lid rings in the baking section of any supermarket. Easy to read instructions and graphics are included in the box of jars, and there are numerous websites devoted to home canning. Imagine Granny in the cellar with her laptop!

Although you might think that the cooks during the first half of the 1900’s were limited in terms of the creativity of their recipes, canning only peaches and pears, a glance at “The Good Housekeeping Cookbook” of 1942 lists recipes for Curry-Cucumber Pickles, Tomato-Apple Catchup, Spiced Citron Melon and Pineapple Chutney. These are preparations that any contemporary chef would be well-served to pair one with his trendy cuisine.

The first step in the cooking process involves careful planning. I do not feed a family of 18, parents, children, grandparents and the occasional farm-hand. Thus, it suits my needs just fine to can only a few quarts at a time. I would never eat a case of pickles.

However, plan on doubling the recipe you find in a cookbook. I found that when I followed the original recipe for watermelon rind pickles, it only filled ¾ of a one quart jar. As such, I was frantically cutting up more watermelon while the first batch was cooking.

This raises another good point for those of you planning to enter your crab-apples in the Fair. The fruit or vegetables need to be tightly packed in the jar. Failure to do so will result in apples floating at the top of the jar with a large space at the bottom--not a passing grade when the judges mark for appearance. I’m not competing at the Fair, so 8 pickles in a jar rather than 12 are just fine.

Once the equipment, recipe and ingredients have all been laid out, it is time to get down to business. Canning is relatively easy and does not take a lot of time when preparing a few quarts of pickles.

The basic process involves:

1) Brining the fruit or vegetables overnight if necessary.
2) Sterilizing the jars.
3) Cooking the fruit or vegetables in either syrup or a pickling solution.
4) Putting the mixture into the jars.
5) Processing the jars to seal the lids.
6) Cooling the jars.
7) Storing the jars.

Again, follow the simple instructions found in the box of jars, in a vintage cookbook, or (for the modern cook) on the web.

Let your precious jars of the harvest mellow and age before opening. Time allows the vinegar to lose its tang, and the cucumbers time to soak up the flavorful brine.

Actually, I’m already planning on how I might use my canned delights in some recipes. Maybe a Smoked Breast of Muscovy Duck with my Spiced Autumn Pears or Pulled Pork piled into a tortilla with a big spoonful of Tomatillo Relish.

So I guess it wasn’t really a nightmare after all. Instead, I’m left with a dream of how crunchy and delicious those dill pickles are going to be with a good pastrami on rye.

But the taste test will have to wait at least a month while my pickles take a well-deserved snooze in the pantry. It will be hard waiting…and equally difficult waiting for next year’s Fair.