Crunchy Dill Pickleville: The Canning Kitchen Cookbook Giveaway

I have ridiculously fond memories of pickles from my childhood.

And not just because I found myself in one regularly.

The Canning Kitchen Cookbook Giveaway - She Eats

Growing up, there were always pickles. Always.

At home in the too-cold, too-creaky basement that housed both my mother’s shelves of canned goodies as well as the furnace that made too many weird noises for it to be safe to spend much time down there.

During the cold Winter months I’d sprint down the stairs, whip open the basement door, flick on the light and retrieve a jar of whatever she needed that day – preserved peaches, chunky applesauce, soft B.C. cherries, or crunchy pickles. The jars were endless and signified the bounty – and love – we cultivated from our tiny backyard garden.

That is until the garden was torn up to park the camper.

And then Mom relied on the markets in our cow-tipping, bumper-skiing, sleepy 5000 person town.

The Canning Kitchen Cookbook Giveaway - She Eats

Growing up, there were always pickles. Always.

At my Grandparent’s house where the couches were stiff but the arms of my Grandmother were warm and soft and very loving. Their house always smelled a little like plastic, a little like old and a little like chocolate chip cookies. I haven’t been back to Alberta in over a decade but both my Grandma and Grandpa are still alive so I’m going to assume it still does.

When I was a kid, we trekked to enjoyed every major holiday at someone’s house. All 30+ of us from all corners of our family. The Grandparents, the Aunts, the Uncles, the Cousins, the Second Cousins, the friends of Cousins, the dogs, the cats, and of course, my Mom, my Dad, my brother and I. And the most memorable ones were at Grandma and Grandpa’s house.

The Canning Kitchen Cookbook Giveaway - She Eats

And Grandma had a pickle dish.

I think everyone has this dish in their family. Crystal. Heavy. And lots of little compartments so you can have a veritable smorgasbord of pickles on the table at any time, none having to bump uglies with another. Think of it like little individual pickle ghettos. But tastier.

Our family had a distinct preference for homemade beet pickles, crunchy dill pickles and bread and butter pickles with those little florets of cauliflower in them.

Nothing fancy, nothing extravagant. But they always tasted like home.

They were always the first thing on the dinner table. I’d sneak one as an Aunt mashed the potatoes. And as Dad carved the turkey. And as Mom poured everybody milk or water. And as Grandma stood watch over everything – making sure all the dishes got to the table at the same time.

Needless to say, child-me got my paws slapped by more than one adult in that kitchen on more than one occasion. And yet, I kept going back for more.

Growing up, there were always pickles. Always.

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And now, there’s pickles in my adulting life too.

It’s no secret that one of my secret single behaviours was to eat pickles naked in the kitchen after a night of imbibing too many long island iced teas. Crunchy, refreshing, delicious pickles.

But now I’ve taken up pickling on my own. Partly because it’s way fecking cheaper than buying them from the grocery store, partly because they simply taste better when made from farm fresh cucumbers and partly because there’s something so innately historic and social about passing the canning skills down through the generations.

I find it all very rustic. Very therapeutic. Very connected. Very delicious. And very badass.

My Grandma – who is pretty much a ground-zero badass in every way possible – gave me my first canning equipment. A water bath canner, some tongs and a few jars.

Which I promptly stored in the laundry room and didn’t touch for 4 years.

But since then, I’ve become an avid proponent of putting up. Recently Mom bequeathed to me a ridiculous amount of jars and lids and rings, many of which are pint sized.

The Canning Kitchen Cookbook Giveaway - She Eats

So, when presented with that kind of arsenal, what else is a girl to do but make crunchy dill pickles?

I’ve more or less winged it recipe-wise for most of my canning endeavors. But this time around, I turned to my gal Amy Bronee for guidance.

And I’m hot dang pickling glad I did! I’m now the proud muncher of some damn good pickles.

Which brings me to the purpose of this post – and likely what you’ve been oh so patiently waiting for me to get to. The giveaway.

The Canning Kitchen Cookbook Giveaway - She Eats

Amy’s best-selling cookbook, The Canning Kitchen: 101 Simple Small Batch Recipes blends the traditions of home preserving with the tastes of the modern home cook (aka helps you be self-sufficiently badass). You’ll likely know Amy from her blog, Family Feedbag. And if you don’t, you should. Get over there. Say hi to her. Make some of her delicious recipes. But first, enter below to win one mother of a prize!

That’s right my friends. Today we have an autographed copy of Amy’s new book in our possession AND a $100 gift card to Canadian Tire for the winner to purchase everything they need to start canning!

// Check out the other 9 drool worthy creations by the Canning Kitchen Giveaway bloggers: //

ENTER THE GIVEAWAY:

* Contest open to Canadian mailing addresses only and who have reached the age of majority in the province, state or territory in which they reside.

MANDATORY: Simply leave a comment below and tell me what you’re canning (or want to can) this year!

BE SURE to click the widget options below for both mandatory and optional entries because you can’t be entered to win if the widget doesn’t know you’ve done it! Your email address is ONLY used to contact you if you’ve won, not for any other purpose, and is never made public.

Giveaway closes Wednesday, September 2, 2015.

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Disclosure of Material Connection: Penguin Random House Limited DID provide me a review copy at no cost. Regardless, I only recommend, giveaway or share products or services I use personally and believe will be good for my readers. All opinions, words and information here are entirely accurate and a reflection of my true experience and were not influenced, in any way, by the above mentioned products or companies. Opinions and views are my own. Because that’s how I roll, yo. I’ve never been one to shut my mouth – I’m not going to start now.

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