Passionate about pickles

Sour sandwich staple despised by some, loved by many

By Jason Straziuso ~ The Associated Press

PHILADELPHIA -- As her lunchtime order arrives, Patrice Landers launches into a familiar ritual: She lifts the bun and roots around inside, making sure her burger isn't tainted with one particularly polarizing topping -- pickles.

"I just don't like pickles on my food," Landers said as her two kids downed milkshakes at a retro diner in Philadelphia. And even though 8-year-old daughter Joanekquah does like pickles, Mom wanted a bite of her sandwich, so ...

"When I ordered, my daughter said, 'Mom where's the pickles?' and I said, 'No pickles,"' Landers said.

For every pickle lover who seeks out multiple servings of the condiment, it seems there's a pickle hater who banishes the briny invader in their sandwiches.

Dill ranks as favorite

And whether it's love or loathing, pickles seem to inspire emotions that lettuce just can't evoke.

"They're good," Joanekquah insisted.

"Gross," responded brother Akwasi, 7, who inherited mom's taste buds.

If sales are any indication, most Americans like a good crunchy dill. The U.S. Department of Agriculture estimates that 29 billion domestically grown pickles are sold in the United States each year, said Richard Hentschel of the trade group Pickle Packers International.

Even people who try to avoid them end up consuming pickled vegetables masked in sauerkraut, tartar sauce, pimento loaf, thousand-island salad dressing, relish and even as dried seasoning dusted on croutons.

Deli owners and restaurant managers aren't surprised at the plethora of pickles. Joseph Benmoha, an owner of three New York City delis, surely echoes deli owners everywhere.

"There's no deli sandwich without a good pickle. Got to have the pickle," he said, noting his restaurants offer a bucket of pickled cukes on each table. "Even babies grab them and start sucking on them."

McDonald's alone uses 50 million pounds of pickles a year in the United States. Even so, none of them wind up on Lisa Concoff's burgers. The 22-year-old UCLA student has always invested the time to custom order a pickle-free burger.

"That's the thing when I was little -- I want a cheeseburger, no pickles," she recalled.

Paul Rozin, a professor of psychology at the University of Pennsylvania, said pickles, like other spicy or sour foods, are an acquired taste.

Culture determines liking

"Generally speaking, a little kid would not like a pickle," he said. "Depending on your exposure and your culture you learn to like different things."

Rozin conducted a study of hot pepper eating habits in Mexico and found that children younger than 5 don't like them but learn to as they age. It would be the same with pickles, he said.

That's the kind of news that Hentschel likes to hear. The trade group executive quizzes the pickle-averse about why they soured on dills. He tries to get them to reconsider.

"When you ask, they haven't tried a pickle in 30 years. They don't remember why they don't like them," Hentschel said.

"They may have had grandma's sour dill pickle as a kid and not liked it and never eaten a pickle again."

Pickles date back some 4,500 years, Hentschel said, when pickling vegetables was necessary for human survival between growing seasons. Shakespeare even referred to them in "The Tempest" when a jester says, "I have been in such a pickle."

A marketing campaign after World War II helped make pickles a staple on the holiday relish tray, which helped double the annual consumption rates since the mid-20th century.

While pickles were first popular in America as an ethnic Jewish food, they've greatly expanded in type and taste. There are fried pickles in the South and pickles-on-a-stick at fairs. Some roller skating rinks use the leftover juice from their big glass jars of pickles to make pickle-flavored snow cones.

For Concoff, the UCLA student, pickled snow cones are out of the question. But unlike some pickle-averse people, her discarded condiments aren't automatically earmarked for the trash.

"If you're with a group of people, there's going to be someone who eats everybody's pickles," Concoff said. "There's always that one person who's like, 'Are you going to eat your pickles?"'