They have always intrigued me. Yet, as a Jewish woman from Long Island they always seemed, to me, to be so wrong. Pickles belong in a plate next to the cole slaw at the Kosher deli or in a container in which they arrived at my house fresh from the barrel. Pickles do not belong anywhere near breadcrumbs or a fryer.

But there they were on the menu last week at the Texas bar-b-que restaurant my husband and I decided to stop in at while in Binghamton. And not only were they on the menu, but they were listed at the bargain price of $3.99 for a whole basket. The inherent bargain shopper in me quickly took control, looked at my husband, and said “Let’s try them.”

When they came to the table, we both examined them very cautiously. It took a few minutes before either one of us could gather the nerve to taste them. But, from the first bite, we were hooked. They were the perfect combination of sour, crunchy, and salty. We quickly finished the whole basket, with me eating much more than my half. I am definitely looking forward to my next opportunity to order fried pickles.

Fried pickles? Who knew? What foreign food have you tried?