There ought to be a law that any pickle relish available for public consumption, at either public or private events, must be clearly labelled “dill” or “sweet.”
It’s an abomination to think you’ve just smothered your perfectly grilled (read: somewhat burnt) hot dog with mustard, onions and dill relish, only to take a huge bit and realize that some sadist put out sweet relish.
Deviled eggs? Do not need sweet relish.
Potato salad? Does not need sweet relish.
Grilled meats, to include hamburgers, hot dogs and their vegetarian counterparts? Do not need sweet relish.
You could arguably use just a smidge in tartar sauce, but even that is really better with the dill variety.
(I will not devolve into a discussion of the hideousness of the hellish beasts who spring Miracle Whip on unsuspecting guests in their home.)
I’m not a prissy pickle person. I like most kinds of pickles. When I was a kid, a sweet gherkin and a glass of root beer was a fabulous snack, best consumed when watching Bugs Bunny cartoons.
I used to make pickled garlic all the time. Pickled garlic is an especially wonderful thing to add to a vinaigrette, and the pickling process dilutes the potency.
Pickled okra, carrots and green beans are among my favorites. I do love a good pickled beet, which is even better is the person making it sneaks a few slices of jalapeno into the jar. You just can’t go wrong with a pickled beet.
I’ve pickled eggs. Those were a throwback to my childhood, and while they were tasty, there are only so many pickled eggs one desires to eat in any given week.
Grapes? I’ve pickled ’em. I thought they were interesting and would make a lovely addition to a charcuterie board (something I never make). The spousal unit was not wildly enthusiastic, and Things 1 and 2 gave them a serious thumbs down. Infidels, the lot of them.
Where would cheap, greasy nachos be without the addition of pickled jalapeno slices? Nowhere.
I’ve never tried pickled pigs feet, and though I don’t see them in my near future, I wouldn’t rule them out completely.
My grandmother made the BEST mustard pickles, and my sister and I agree that the best part of those was the cauliflower. The pearl onions come in second, and the chunks of cucumber a distant third. Nothing better than a mustard pickle, I assure you. An Easter dinner with ham was not complete without them.
I’ve a fondness for little pickled cocktail onions. I suspect that half the reason for that is turning them into eyeballs near Halloween. (I desperately want you to think I only do that around Halloween.)
Just keep that freaking sweet pickle relish clearly labelled and well away from me.
(Bonus: When I ran spellcheck, it wanted me to say I love pickled beats. I’m intrigued by the notion, with no idea how to carry it out.)