Pickled strawberries and leeks - perfect food for the stockpilers of Brexit Britain

The Guardian - Feb 21, 08:00 GMT

Food waste and import woes meet vinegary fetishism in one perfect sweet-sour crunchI’m pregnant, so naturally I’m eating a lot of pickled food. I wouldn’t call it a craving

Food waste and import woes meet vinegary fetishism in one perfect sweet-sour crunch

I’m pregnant, so naturally I’m eating a lot of pickled food. I wouldn’t call it a craving. I’ve had those over the past few months, a chronicle of the gross and the predictable, which has lurched from taramasalata and pears to cheddar and Coca-Cola. Craving is too reductive for pickled food. It has been my constant, a loyal companion, my Old Yeller before he caught rabies.

They have also been something of a joke in the food world, at least for anyone who watched Portlandia (an early skit showed a couple pickling eggs and plasters) or found the whole hip, cocktails-in-jam-jars movement deeply suspicious.

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