I never buy pickled onions. No need to - I make my own. Crisp, luscious, sweet and spicy, pickled onions fit for the gods. I claim no credit for this. These are not pickled onions of my own devising; they are pickled onions made by faithfully following a recipe handed down to me by my mother, who received it from her own mother, who in turn... Well, we’re talking here about a recipe that had its origins way back in the middle of the 19th century and, for all I know, even earlier. There is much to be said for progress but sometimes the old methods are still the best.
Incidentally, it was not my intention to market these onions. It never crossed my mind. That they are now on sale is due to my friend John Wringe, a gifted and energetic advertising and marketing man and very possibly the world’s leading aficionado of pickled onions. One evening, at supper at my daughter Emma’s house, he dipped into a jar of onions that I had given her and - so I am told, for I wasn’t there at the time - a look akin to that which must have come to St. Paul on the road to Damascus lit his face. “These are sublime,” he cried, reaching for another. “Everyone should be able to enjoy them.” So he went to work and now, two years later, thanks to him and, of course, Bennett-Opie, everyone can indeed enjoy them. I hope you will.
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