Baki Pickle Novels & Stories

He has exactly twelve food items in this cabinet: half a dozen assorted spices - purchased for tonight's recipe, if I had to guess - a box of fruity cereal, some Pop-Tarts, a can of chicken noodle soup, a package of sandwich cookies, and two giant jars of pickles. "What's so funny?" he says, coming up behind me. I grin up at him. "Just admiring your food selection. You really like pickles, huh?" He shrugs. "Pickles are delicious." "That's it. This will never work," I tease, wrinkling my nose. "I knew there was something wrong with you." "Wrong with me? Who doesn't like pickles?" "Anyone with working taste buds." He laughs. "That's a little harsh."

I asked a little concerned. "I left Mr. Pickles all alone" she said with a lot of concern and worry. Mr. Pickles is her favourite toy. She carried him everywhere and held him tight during the night. He was a gift from my aunt Danny who she loved very much. Mr Pickles was a soft green plushie that resembled a pickle, hence the name. Flamingo received Mr Pickles a little over three years ago and has loved him ever since.

“It’s just… warm in here.” I leaned back, grinning. “Sure.” **** Inside the bodega, Ethan looked like a man on a mission. He marched straight to the pickle aisle. “Dill? Sweet? Garlic?” he asked, holding up jars like we were at a wine tasting. “Dill,” I decided. “The big ones.” He tossed a jar into the basket. “And ice cream?” “Vanilla. The creamiest one.” He grabbed a tub, then added another. “Backup. In case the first one runs out.”

I cross my arms over my chest huffily as Jake pulls up the long expanse of driveway to his gorgeous two-story home that practically faces my own. “Emma doesn’t lecture. Emma likes to help, and nope, I really was just bulk buying my Bambino three hundred cases of pickles, so I don’t have to make another two-a.m. jog across town to find a seven eleven that sells them.” Jake lifts knowing eyebrows and a cheeky smile my way. Dazzling me with his pearly whites and trademark Carrero dimples.

He held up a bag for her, saying, “We didn’t know what you’d like so we bought you pickled cucumbers, pickled papaya, pickled red onions… “ He took out a pack of something yellow then continued. “…pickled radish… we bought this at a Korean store. Lexy said you’d crave for sour foods.” “Thank you, Car!” she said, hugging him. Can I add pickles to brownies? “Sometimes I think you got these two pregnant, bro,” said Lexy as Anna hugged her next. “You’re all here,” said a new guest. Why are they all here? Rigel, like the rest of them, invited himself in and gave Anna a quick hug. He handed her a fruit basket. A fucking fruit basket! Can’t they all wait until tomorrow? And all it had were mangoes.

"Chili pickled. Wait for a week before you eat it." Max took it in awe, "I don't know that you can make pickles from chilies." "Now you know. It was made from green chili, vinegar, salt and soy sauce. Put it on the closed lid jar and done. It is still spicy, but you got an additional taste like salty, sour and bit sweet. Isn't it amazing?" "You look so enthusiast when talking about food. Good thing that Baron lend you this kitchen." Cecilia shook her head, "It is not just a kitchen for me. It is my own laboratory!"

"I recognize some of these items but not all of them." "Yeah, I put some Zargan foods on the plate too. I figured you might want to shake it up a notch," Bart said, walking around the bed and sitting in the chair that Conor had sat in. "The pale green slices are called cucumbers. They have a dark green rind that you can peel off or eat. That depends on your personal preference. Blue fruits are called blueberries and can be bitter if they aren't ripe. Some bakers mix them into muffins and cakes to give the baked goods a different flavor. I gave you some rye bread, too," he said, pointing at the dark bread. "It's my favorite bread and makes for some great sandwiches. Lastly, I put some turkey

Soon there were slices of bread… Cheese… Eggs… Lettuce… Peanut butter… Jam… Chicken… Honey… And somehow… Pickles. I stared. “Eli.” “Yes?” “…Why are there pickles?” “They add personality.” “I don’t think that’s how sandwiches work.” “We’re innovating.” Ava didn’t even look up. “He’s making biological warfare.” “I’m making history.” “You’ll make the hospital.” Five minutes later… A tiny cloud of flour floated through the air. I slowly turned. “Eli.”

I just told her it's nothing just tiredness. Everyone came to have breakfast. Due to vomiting since morning, the taste in my mouth had deteriorated, so I thought I would eat some pickles. This pickle has been brought by Jija from Udaipur. The pickle was very tasty, so I just kept on eating it. When I raised my eyes, I found everyone is looking at me only. They were looking at me like this as if I have come just run away from the asylum. I gave them an awkward smile. "What's the matter, sweetheart? Are you feeling unwell? Why are you eating pickles like this in the morning? That too on an empty stomach. It will hurt in the stomach. Eat this later my child."

Azalea said cheerfully. “I'm pickling pickles and peppers! It's my mother's recipe. She has the best pickled peppers I've ever had! Well, I suppose they are the only pickled peppers I've ever had. But still! They're the best!” Azalea said, pointing her finger to drive her point home. Azalea turned back to the steaming pot filled with vinegar and water and carefully poured it into the first jar. Maverick smiled, even though his eyes and nose were burning, and shook his head as he approached his pretty little angel.