The Folklore...

It all starts twenty years ago when Mike McClure was on an NSA sponsored mission to assassinate the Japanese ambassador. Perched up in the rafters of a thatched hut behind a shoji screen with his rifle in the window and his laser scope trained on the ambassador, McClure had the perfect shot. As he was about to fire on his target, a wild glare obscured his scope, and the shot was gone. McClure scanned the perimeter and found that the glare had come from the windowsill of the thatched hut across the dusty alley. On the sill were eight mason jars filled with red tendriled chilis, ivory chunks of garlic, and phosphorescent green cucumbers swimming in juice.

McClure knew he must punish the owner of the pickle jars. Like a ninja he crept into the thatched abode with his rifle, but just as he crossed the threshold, he was chopped down from behind. Hours later he awoke to find himself in the clutches of Wong Young Cucumber, former master Karate instructor and master pickler.

Cucumber and McClure sorted out their differences, and McClure asked if he could learn the craft at the hands of the master. Cucumber pulled out chopsticks and caught an errant gypsy moth in flight and ate it. He cocked his head, and said, "Moth taste horrible, train you I will."

After seven years of observation and apprenticeship, Cucumber told McClure he was now ready to make his own batch. He gave McClure a quart mason jar with a 24k gilded lid. It was Cucumber's prized possession. The student brewed up his first batch. He offered to the master. The master took a bite, chewed it, and declared, "Tastes better than moth, you....ahhhh." The master burst into flames and disappeared. Cucumber had achieved pickle nirvana, and McClure became the earthly master.

Now you can sample the master's creation, and achieve your own pickle nirvana.