We ran out of Wickles pickles this past weekend. I reached a fork into the mouth of the jar and came back up with one measly little chip. A runt slice. Right about then, my egg salad sandwich went to hell.
I'm not so keen on the name, Wickles. Too cutesy. (Of course, cutesiness comes with an audience; Rachael Ray's website is asking readers to vote for their favorites, and Wickles is way out in front.) But never mind that. Wickles, made by the Sims family in Dadeville, Alabama, are, despite their coined-by-a-lapsed-sorority-girl moniker, arrestingly great. A little sweet. A little hot. With a whiff of cider vinegar. And top notes of dill and garlic.
Start with one jar. And before long, you'll be reaching for your last chip, too. Soon, you'll be back at the Wickles website, ordering a case of 16-ouncers.
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