Koolickle

Some things simply should not be. Some ideas are so repulsive that to make them manifest ought be an abomination worthy of incurring the wrath of each and every tempestuous deity dreamed up throughout the history of man. One such vile monstrosity is the Koolickle.

The Koolickle, or Kool Aid Pickle, is made (at the hands of the wretchedly insane, no doubt) by emptying a jar of pickles of all pickling fluids and adding double strength Kool Aid and some extra sugar in its stead. I'm not sure how many days it takes for the Kool Aid to ruin the savory dills, one source in the New York Times says a week, but you may notice the color of the pickles has been completely warped by the sickeningly sweet solution.

I had the... pleasure... of being introduced to Koolickles through the generosity of my wife's coworkers who, in some psychotic fit of madness inspired by the New York Times article on the phenomenon, decided to make a batch at work using grape Kool Aid. They may not have left the dills in the solution for an incredibly long time as they were still rather green but decorated with disturbing purple stretch marks.

The aroma wasn't wholly unpleasant but still quite disturbing. Artificial grape flavoring is fairly disgusting itself and was the dominant scent while the vinegar smell lingered low in the mix giving the impression that the grape flavored dill had soured and adding to the nausea factor.

Eating the Koolickle is an increasingly difficult task. My first bite was bearable, I dare say even pleasurable. The strange combination of flavors was curiously appealing with that initial taste. However, every subsequent bite became exponentially more repulsive. I tried to soldier on for honor, duty, and because I was hungry but I had to abandon mission mid chew with approximately one-third of the pickle remaining. My dry heaves threaten to turn into something more vicious so I quickly tossed the last of the Koolickle into the sink and left until I could stomach delivering the remains to the trash can.

But don't take my word for it. This could be the first edible oddities home experiment. Go get a jar of pickles, empty out the fluids, add double strength Kool Aid and some extra sugar, leave it all sitting in the fridge for a week, then eat and enjoy. Just don't blame me for any projectile vomiting that ensues... you can't say I didn't warn you.

Sweet Pickled Watermelon Rind

"What is this garbage?" I thought to myself. Fully supporting the idea that we not let any food go to waste, I was still rather disturbed upon encountering the jar labeled "sweet pickled watermelon rinds." Watermelon rinds, as far as I knew, are completely unpalatable and no amount of soaking in vinegar and corn syrup could change that.

Watermelons are well known for being low calorie and high in fiber so I was further shocked upon reading the nutritional facts of my strange new purchase and finding out that just two cubes pack a whopping 70 calories and 12 grams of sugar. With nine servings in the bottle, this is one jar of "fruit" you don't want to finish off in one sitting... or ten.

The disgust only intensified as I brought the embalmed rind to my lips but quickly dissipated once the taste signals hit my brain. Not bad... certainly not good but not bad either. These things should really be in the candy aisle as they taste like a super sweet but slightly tangy gummy treat. Rendered soft and gelatinous by the pickling process, the texture of the sweet pickled watermelon rind resembles that of boiled broccoli stalks soaked in syrup (sorry, I thought long and hard about this one and couldn't come up with anything better).

It's strange food items like this that inspired me to write this blog for you, my audience of zero (hey, even I don't read this babble) and I'm happy to have found and tried this abomination of food processing. And even though the experience was positive and the taste strangely appealing, I'm still left wondering: who on Earth eats this crap?