Homegrown Cukes!

Ooh, boy, what a gift! Awaiting me on my porch when I got home from school today was this lovely environmentally friendly bag with homegrown cukes from the garden of my friends Jill and Ronn. Wowee zowee. One of them is so small and sweet that it already looks like one of my favorite things in the world: a snappy Kosher pickle. I can't wait to eat these little babies, starting tonight.

The best Kosher pickles I ever ate were placed in plastic tubs, generously free for the taking, at a wonderful little Jewish deli called The Buttery. It was in Mountain Brook Village throughout my childhood and teen years, but has since been replaced by some tony clothing or sports shop. The buttery had four things I really love: lovely garlicky pickles; melt-in-your-mouth blintzes; hot pastrami sandwiches on strong rye bread; and New York cheesecake so smooth and slightly lemony that one bite convinced your mouth that it and you had entered nirvana. I still mourn the disappearance of The Buttery.

One more reason to remember it. On an evening outing there with my widowed father and my brother David, he actually held the door open for me -- an important first. I remember being so shocked that I was mute, something I'm not known for.

And to think: all this remembering started with a gift from a friend's garden!