Pickled Grapes

As the holidays ramp up, so does the production of foods falling under the capacious, vague, generally alarming category of edibles labeled “great with a cheese platter.” Let’s not even discuss those foods that are “terrific with charcuterie!”

Coming soon to a holiday table near you.

Even the most cheese-loving person can consume limited amounts of this stuff. So it is I’ve avoided pickling fruits, including grapes.

These are raw green olives. Most people cannot access these, so I share as a curiousity (and a way to bulk out a dearth of pickled grape pictures) This is my third attempt at brining olives. The first time the olives remained inedibly bitter. The second time I messed up and the brine spoiled. Here we are at third attempt. It takes six months, so don’t hold your breath.

Returning to pickling grapes. It was a horribly hot afternoon, and I’d picked up the Zuni Cafe Cookbook, searching for another recipe (Fish? Fowl? Last week was a long time ago. An eternity). Instead I found pickled grapes. For once I had all the ingredients in the house– a rare event–and thought, well, what the hell.

Granted, it’s not as if I were embarking on an Ottolenghi recipe.

 

Into the kitchen.

The original recipe calls for 3/4 cup sugar (175 grams) and allspice. My aversion to sugar is well documented. As for allspice, I find it is like certain politicians: it tends to take over. I reduced the sugar to a scant 1/2 cup (100 grams), and seasoned with cardamom, coriander, fennel seed, and a bay leaf.

Either white wine or Champagne vinegar will work here. Avoid cider or malt vinegars, which are too harsh for this pickle. Look for a vinegar with 5% acidity or higher, ensuring safe long-term keeping.

As for the grapes, Rodgers calls for Zante or another small, seedles grape. I used Thompson, as they were available. Whatever you buy, be sure to purchase a seedless variety, thus ensuring a pleasant eating experience.

In addition to being lovely to look at, pickled grapes are truly good: they have none of the weirdness one encounters with pickled fruits, the “I should like this, but I don’t” feelings (and you know have them), that confused guilt because you are a sophisticated person, somebody who knows how to eat, but deep in your inmost soul really doesn’t know what on earth you’re going to do with a pickled grape.

Except, of course, eat it with a cheese platter.

Am I right?

Pickled grapes manage to rise above all that (isn’t it nice that something does right now, even if it’s just a grape?). Make your pickled grapes now. Hold the jar until the holidays. If you do the turkey thing in November, serve your pickled grapes then, alongside the bird. Or wait until December. Pickled grapes helpfully keep indefinitely. They continue looking gorgeous, which is more than most of us can say.