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Bread & Butter Zucchini Pickles — Putting Something By While the Sap Begins to Run

The last week of February and the light is genuinely different — I noticed it Monday morning when I walked to the mailbox and realized the sky was still pale blue at five-thirty rather than black. The shift happens gradually from solstice but by late February it has accumulated to something you can feel in the body, a loosening of the winter compression, a signal that the machinery of spring is starting somewhere far away and will eventually reach Vermont. I do not get ahead of myself about this. March in Vermont is not spring. But late February is permission to think about spring without it being wishful thinking.

The maple sap check began this week. I have twelve tapped maples on the back of the property, a small operation compared to commercial sugarbushes, but enough to produce thirty to forty gallons of syrup in a good year. The trees need a few more good freeze-thaw cycles before the sap runs well, but I drilled a test hole in the most reliable of the twelve trees and hung a single bucket, and by Thursday afternoon I had half a bucket of sap — clear as water, faintly sweet, promising. The season is close.

I shared this with Bill on our Sunday call and he reported that his neighbor had tapped twelve trees and already had sap running in Maine. The coastal proximity to the ocean moderates the temperatures there — the freeze-thaw cycles come earlier and the season can be a week or two ahead of inland Vermont. He had gone over to the neighbor's sugarbush on Saturday morning and watched the buckets fill and said he stood there for twenty minutes just listening to the drip of it. I told him to remember that sound. It is one of the sounds that belongs to a specific part of New England spring and once you have heard it you recognize it ever after as belonging to the season.

The second Helen notebook post went up Friday — a 1980 pot roast recipe that was really a technique more than a recipe, with her notes in the margins about what she had adjusted from the original method. I posted it with the note that her annotations were the most interesting part and that the recipe as written in the margin notes was better than the recipe in the body of the page. The series is finding its audience. I can feel it taking shape into something that will matter to the blog for a long time.

There is something about the first sap in the bucket — that half-bucket of clear, barely-sweet promise sitting on the back of the property — that puts me in a preserving frame of mind. The same instinct that draws a person to a sugarbush draws them to the canning shelf: the desire to capture something fleeting, to hold a season still long enough to eat it in February. I had a bag of zucchini from the last of the root cellar stores, and bread and butter pickles felt exactly right — the kind of simple, reliable preserve that Helen would have had a margin note about, the kind that rewards patience the way a good sugaring season does.

Bread & Butter Zucchini Pickles

Prep Time: 20 min + 1 hr salting | Cook Time: 15 min | Total Time: 1 hr 35 min | Servings: 4 half-pint jars (about 32 servings)

Ingredients

  • 2 lbs zucchini, thinly sliced into rounds (about 1/4 inch thick)
  • 1 medium yellow onion, thinly sliced
  • 2 tablespoons kosher salt
  • 1 1/2 cups white wine vinegar (5% acidity)
  • 1 cup granulated sugar
  • 1 teaspoon mustard seeds
  • 1/2 teaspoon celery seeds
  • 1/2 teaspoon ground turmeric
  • 1/4 teaspoon red pepper flakes (optional)
  • Ice cubes, for salting step

Instructions

  1. Salt the zucchini. Combine sliced zucchini and onion in a large bowl. Toss with kosher salt, then cover with a layer of ice cubes. Let stand for 1 hour to draw out moisture and keep the slices crisp. Drain well, rinse under cold water, and pat dry with a clean kitchen towel.
  2. Make the brine. In a medium saucepan, combine white wine vinegar, sugar, mustard seeds, celery seeds, turmeric, and red pepper flakes if using. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat, stirring until the sugar fully dissolves, about 3–4 minutes.
  3. Combine and heat. Add the drained zucchini and onion to the brine. Return to a gentle simmer and cook for 3–4 minutes, just until the zucchini begins to turn slightly translucent at the edges but still holds its shape. Do not overcook — you want a crisp pickle.
  4. Pack the jars. Using a slotted spoon, pack the zucchini and onion tightly into clean, sterilized half-pint mason jars. Ladle the hot brine over the vegetables, leaving 1/2 inch of headspace. Remove air bubbles by running a thin spatula around the inside edge of each jar.
  5. Seal and process. Wipe jar rims clean, apply lids and bands fingertip-tight, and process in a boiling water bath canner for 10 minutes. Remove jars and let cool undisturbed on a towel-lined counter for 12–24 hours. Check seals before storing.
  6. Rest before opening. For best flavor, allow jars to rest in a cool, dark place for at least 1 week before opening. Refrigerate after opening and use within 3 months.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 35 | Protein: 0g | Fat: 0g | Carbs: 9g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 180mg

Walter Bergstrom
About the cook who shared this
Walter Bergstrom
Week 414 of Walter’s 30-year story · Burlington, Vermont
Walt is a seventy-three-year-old retired high school history teacher from Burlington, Vermont — a Vietnam veteran, a widower, and a grandfather of five who cooks New England comfort food in the same kitchen where his wife Margaret made bread every Saturday for forty years. He lost Margaret to a stroke in 2021, and now he bakes her bread himself, not because he's good at it but because the smell fills the house and for an hour she's still there.

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