Alright, so I decided to make some torshi the other day. You know, those pickled vegetables? Yeah, those. I was just looking at the sad selection in the supermarket, all pale and lifeless in their plastic tubs, and thought, “I can do better than this.” Plus, I had a bunch of veggies in the fridge that were on the verge of, well, not being so fresh anymore. Waste not, want not, or so they say. My grandma used to make jars and jars of this stuff, and it always tasted amazing. Mine never quite hits that mark, but I keep trying.
Getting Started – The Usual Chaos
So, first, I had to actually gather all the bits and pieces. This is where it always starts to go a bit sideways. I thought I had enough pickling vinegar. Turns out, I had about a thimbleful. So, off to the shop I went. And of course, they’d moved everything around again. Why do they do that? Spent a good ten minutes hunting for decent vinegar, not that fancy balsamic stuff, just plain old pickling vinegar. Finally found it, hidden behind a mountain of artisanal olive oils. Honestly.
Then, the vegetables. I had carrots, cauliflower, some green beans that were looking a bit sorry for themselves, and a couple of peppers. Washing everything took forever. My sink isn’t exactly industrial-sized, you know. I always feel like I’m just splashing water everywhere. And then the chopping. Oh, the chopping. I really need to sharpen my knives. It felt like I was trying to saw through concrete with a butter knife. My hands were aching by the end of it. I even found a rogue turnip lurking in the back of the veggie drawer, so in it went. Why not? More the merrier, I suppose.
The Brine and The Packing
Next up, the brine. This is where everyone seems to have their secret family recipe. Mine’s pretty basic: water, vinegar, salt, a bit of sugar. I threw in some garlic cloves, whole peppercorns, and a bay leaf or two this time. Felt a bit adventurous. Some people go crazy with spices – turmeric for color, mustard seeds, coriander. It’s like a science experiment. I just boil it all up until the salt and sugar dissolve. Smells pretty potent, clears the sinuses right out.
Then came the packing of the jars. I’d sterilized a few big ones. Stuffing all those chopped veggies in is like a game of Tetris. You try to get it all snug, no big air pockets. I always end up with one jar that’s half empty or one that’s overflowing. It’s a skill, I tell you. A skill I’m still working on. Then you pour the hot brine over everything, making sure all the veggies are submerged. Seal them up tight while they’re still hot.
The Waiting Game (and a Little Rant)
And then, the worst part. The waiting. You can’t just tuck in straight away. Well, you could, but it wouldn’t be proper torshi. It needs a few days, maybe a week, for the flavors to really get to know each other. This is where my patience wears thin. I keep peeking at the jars, as if that’ll speed things up.
You know, it’s funny. Everyone on the internet these days is an expert. They’ve got these incredibly complicated recipes, twenty different spices, specific fermentation temperatures. It’s all a bit much. My grandma, she just threw stuff in a crock, covered it, and it came out perfect. Maybe we overthink things now. She didn’t have a fancy pH meter or a temperature-controlled fermentation chamber. She had a cool pantry and common sense. Sometimes I think all these “hacks” and “perfect methods” just take the joy out of doing something simple.
It’s like when I tried to fix my leaky tap following some online guide. Ended up with water spraying everywhere, had to call a plumber anyway. He just came in, gave it a good whack with a wrench, tightened something, and it was fixed in two minutes. Cost me a fortune for that two minutes, mind you. But sometimes the old ways, the simple ways, they just work.
The Moment of Truth
Anyway, after about a week of staring at those jars, I finally cracked one open. The smell was good – vinegary, a bit spicy. I fished out a piece of cauliflower. Crunchy, tangy, just the right amount of kick. Not bad. Not bad at all. Definitely better than that sad stuff from the supermarket. The carrots were good too, still had a bit of bite. Even the rogue turnip turned out alright.
So, yeah. That was my torshi adventure. A bit of a faff, a bit of a mess in the kitchen, but worth it. Got a few jars lined up now. They probably won’t last long. Now I just need to figure out what to do with all the leftover celery I found after I’d sealed all the jars. Always something, isn’t it?
