Making my peace with pickled eggs and beets

Last week, I pickled my first batch of eggs and beets.

My first encounter with this pickled pair occurred a decade ago, while on a date. I remember watching my former fella twist open the lid of a quart-sized glass jar, uncovering a plenty of purple eggs floating in sweet beet juice. And then, he reached his bare hand into the bobbing bounty, and in one swoosh, snagged and swallowed one of those slick eggs. A true glutton, he reveled in his repetitious “grab and gobble” until all that remained in the pickling jar was juice.

Aghast, I feared the fallout of his feast and was overcome by pickle-juice induced jitters. And sure enough, an “eggs”plosion occurred.

“Good grief!” I hollered out in the middle of Walmart, as I escaped down aisle seven, leaving my beau behind.

The evening ended soon thereafter.

And so began my aversion for pickled eggs and beets.

That is, until last week, when I faced my foe with friends John and Bev Lazar.

Pennsylvania born and bred, John and Bev were beckoned South several years back — John’s career the catalyst. Now retired, John spends his time tending to post-career projects, such as his backyard biddies and their newly constructed coup. While Bev leaves the feathered flock for John, she shares his pickling passion for eggs and beets, as was discussed during a recent visit at the Lazar homestead.

“I’ll teach you how to make ‘em,” John jabbed, following my tale of terror from 10 years back.

And so, a pickling date was set, with the promise that Bev would cook a pre-pickling dinner.

I arrived at the Lazars’ kitchen table with an unusually empty stomach that night. And after two servings of ham loaf, baked beans and macaroni casserole, Bev brought forth a golden-brown delight.

“I know you’re too full for this now,” she smiled, slicing a piece of homemade pumpkin pie. “We’ll wait until your food’s had time to settle.”

“No, I’m not!” I cried, evoking the spirit of my Granny Virgie as I unlaced the drawstring waistline of my brown bohemian dress.

And so I ate pumpkin pie, while John pulled the pickling ingredients from the refrigerator.

Bev unsnapped a Tupperware container bearing 18 boiled eggs, which emitted an odor that immediately transported me to my decade-ago date night on aisle seven at the Walmart.

Beets were soon boiled while sugar and spices were scooped atop them. While the stove top steamed with the pickling portion of the recipe, we stood around the kitchen counter and waited. And ate more pumpkin pie.

“Once the eggs pickle, they’ll turn purple down to the yolk,” Bev explained, while I spooned another piece of pumpkin pie into my mouth.

Time passed, and the sweet beet concoction soon cooled. And, after layering both eggs and beets in an enormous Vlasic pickle jar, we said our goodbyes. Those eggs had to set and soak.

And for five days, they did.

Admittedly, I’ve never been a fan of boiled eggs or beets. Yet, I pulled forth one of each for my first try of the pickled treat. And low and behold, I liked them. Hence, I had a second serving of those sweet eggs and beets. As did little Isabella Lazar, who helped herself to a handful that same night while seated at her grandparents’ kitchen table.

Now, I know what you’re wondering. And I readily report that while my beau from back yonder had a fallout from his feast, I suffered no such rupture from my batch of pickled eggs and beets.

Which leads me to wonder ... was he full of something else, other than pickled eggs and beets?

Gina Eaves is an Epsom native, a Peace College graduate and an advertising representative at The Daily Dispatch. E-mail her at geaves@hendersondispatch.com.

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Pickled eggs and beets

Ingredients:

1 can sliced beets

1/4 cup sugar

1/3 cup vinegar

1/2 tsp cinnamon

1/4 tsp salt

4 - 5 boiled eggs, peeled

Combine beets (and juice), sugar, vinegar, cinnamon and salt in pot. Bring to a boil, then simmer for 5 minutes. Once cooled, layer beets and eggs in jar and refrigerate.

Eggs should set for a few days before served. Enjoy!

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