Cooking in Common: Winter pickles are cooler than a cucumber

Karen Solomon, Special to The Chronicle

Wednesday, January 30, 2008

Mild Bay Area winters don't force us into food preservation as a dietary necessity, but the ancient craft of pickling can often bring snap and bite to the table.

Typically it is summer's bounty that gets brined and bottled. But many local food artisans, restaurants and home chefs have now begun to pay attention to pickling winter's cabbages, root vegetables and citrus fruits.

Whether under vacuum-sealed lids and on restaurant menus, the winter pickle has become a staple that is both classic and totally en vogue. And its ability to bring backbone to a variety of dishes makes pickling a worthwhile project for the home enthusiast of puckery vinegar, salt and spice.

"I just like to use what's seasonal and what's fresh," says Lizzie Binder, chef of Bar Bambino in San Francisco. Her pickles have included green beans, gypsy peppers and shallots, and now, in winter, carrots, cauliflower, razor-thin red onion and baby fennel.

"I read the vegetables," she says, blanching them if necessary, and tossing in a bit of extra cinnamon bark here, or a stray piece of ginger there. Her menu, with its house-cured salumi, began featuring pickles late last year to offset the charcuterie's fatty, meaty flavors, adding not only a vibrant palate cleanser, but also some color and texture to the plate.

"Pickles aren't that complicated, and they're a good way to keep some of the seasonal freshness when freshness isn't here," Binder says.

Classic winter pickles include pickled beets, a sweet and colorful sidekick to the hearty meat and potatoes of Eastern European cuisine; pickled cocktail onions that are the welcome bite to balance any self-respecting Gibson martin; and pickled cabbage like sauerkraut or kimchi, usually fermented and aged rather than simply brined.

Italian pickle medleys of winter vegetables such as cauliflower, onion, carrot and celery, similar to what's served at Bar Bambino, are another classic winter preserve, and are often called antipasti, giardiniera or sotto aceti.

And in the realm of Asian pickles – particularly the copious spread set out with Korean barbecue or the tiny dashes of color that enhance Japanese fried foods – winter pickles can mean anything from ginger to plum, or turnip to daikon.

Bay Area artisans have stretched the flavor possibilities even beyond these choices.

"When it's gray outside, citrus is the brightest color of all the fruits, and it's really amazing," says Casey Havre, founder of LouLou's Garden, maker of pickles and jams from an organic farm near Stockton. The products will also be available at the Fatted Calf shop in Napa's Oxbow Public Market when it opens later this week.

Havre blends the citrus flavors of marmalade into savory pickles, like Meyer lemon with paprika and sea salt, and makes traditional Moroccan preserved lemons to flavor soups, stews and meats, flavored with cinnamon and bay.

Also in her cauldron this winter: a radicchio, cabbage, onion and olive pickle mix, and a tangy, savory blend of dried figs and pears macerated with red wine, honey and balsamic vinegar flavored with garlic and cinnamon designed to pair with roast chicken.

Todd Champagne of Happy Girl Kitchen, a regular fixture at farmers' markets and the provider of pickled carrots and green beans served at the bar of the Slanted Door, has already sold out of his cumin carrots, and is considering putting up another 50 cases. "People come out of the woodwork for our carrots and start ordering cases. During winter, you can only eat so much fresh kale, chard and cabbage, you know?"