Time to pickle

A long time ago now, I determined to pickle my own cucumbers, not in vinegar but a proper salt pickle, and none of your effete new greens either. This was actually a while before the Great Fermentation Renaissance, and recipes were few and far between. I asked my sister, who was in Moscow at the time, if she could get something like a recipe from one of the women who still, then, sold pickles from a barrel. She did, but it was way too imprecise for me to use. In particular, how much salt? was met with enough and, after further pressure, enough to float an egg.

Eventually, in 2011 I discovered a recipe that told me, flatly, “one rounded tablespoon” for a (US) quart jar, so that’s what I’ve been using, without ever bothering to work out what strength brine it represents. The results are fine, OK, no really they are, even if the spears do become a bit soft and squelchy. Much later, Sandor Katz recommended a 5% brine, but I stubbornly stuck with Caron Golden’s approach, despite its lack of precision.

All this came back to mind when I read Art of Eating about Ukrainian salt fat (behind a paywall). Maria Korneitchik describes making salo with friends from Ukraine, which can be done dry, in a bed of salt, or wet, in a brine. For that, of course, you need to know the strength of the brine. Research suggests to her a 6% solution, and unlike me, she both tries the folk method and tells us the result:

You simply place a raw egg in lukewarm water and add salt until the egg floats. I did that myself, and it indeed works, and the salt ratio is about the same as I had obtained by my calculations.

Thus re-inspired, I may well make a fresh batch this weekend. That would offer the opportunity to measure the strength of the brine I was making by the old method (weigh the salt, add the hot water, then quickly drain and weigh to see how much water I added). I could also do a comparative jar with 5% brine.

I still do not have a good source of cherry leaves, the traditional source of tannins to keep the cucumbers crisp, but Sandor Katz says at a pinch I could use a tea bag. Nothing ventured ...