If success is measured by a relatively quick-moving free pickle line, samples of delicious ruby red beets, new colors of dancing pickle tees, and the possibility of heat stroke, then Pickle Fest 2K8 was pretty damn successful.  This year the good folks of the lower east side decided to go all out, or just more out than last year, and I ate it all up.  And all of “it” tasted great, except for the mysterious, fuchsia-colored pickled turnip.  I like salt more than the average bear, but this was pushing it.  Or maybe my dislike really stemmed from the annoying children who were handing out the aforementioned vegetables and refused to answer my questions.  “Take one!!” isn’t so much an appropriate response to “what is that exactly…?”  Children.  ‘Nuff said.

We entered the fest by walking down Orchard which was probably not smart because Orchard street is a street of temptation.  Rolling suitcases? Leather bomber jackets?  Studded belts?  One of each, please!  Luckily Sylvie stepped in and held me back from purchasing one of these practical items.  Without her I just may have arrived at the pickle tents dressed as a Hells Angels Motorcycle gang member.  And pickles clash with motorcycles.  Obvi.

Other highlights include the pickle program, which detailed the day’s events and informed us that we missed an outdoor Shakespeare performance.  I think there was an accordion involved somehow as well.  Also the t-shirt tent decided not to discriminate and had pickle tote bags for sale.  They’re totally trying to compete with those Marc Jacobs tote bags that say “Marc by Marc Jacobs by Marc Jacobs for Marc Jacobs.”

My one regret was not getting a pickle on a stick.  A pickle on a stick is really a genius concept if you think about it, because one of the major downfalls of the pickle is that it can be slightly awkward to hold.  Also, the stick gives it a carnival feel without the guilt, as the pickle is a far healthier treat than the corn dog.

Only 365 days to go.

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