What’s in my DNA?  Why pickles, of course!

My maternal grandmother’s family was heavy into the pickle business in the early part of the twentieth century with two brothers working rival pickle companies in the Highland, Michigan area.  Domestic Pickle Works was established in 1887 by my Great-Great-Grandfather. He was joined later on by his son, my Great-Grandfather, and the Mary-Art brand (named for my Grandmother, Mary, and her brother, Arthur) came along in the 1920s.

Long gone, with relics of old recipes and a jar label or two remaining, pickle lore runs deep in my family.  There are the countless Depression-era stories of my Grandma and her brother helping out – or, well, trying to – around the pickle factory.  While charming stories, perhaps my favorite tale is one in faded pencil on an old recipe card.

Now I’m not going to show you this card but at the bottom of a Dill recipe, it reads “1 brown bag, 1 red barn, 1 week.”  I have tried now and again to make the old family recipe and something never seems to work right – and I’m not talking about my clumsy canning skills.  They are either too “dilly,” or not nearly crispy enough,  and something always seems to be missing.  I’ve never tasted one of the famous pickles (since the pickle business was closed in 1962) so I can’t know for sure; but I believe the missing piece is the red barn.  Why else would it be written down so specifically on a recipe card that’s been handed down?

Unfortunately, I don’t have a red barn.  However, I have come to notice that there are perhaps thousands of red barns all over Michigan.  So if you happen to own a red barn there’s a chance one day you will notice a brown paper bag in the corner.  Don’t be alarmed.  It’s just a batch of the old family pickles I’m trying to perfect – and it will only be there for a week.