Help, I can’t stop eating the horseradish cheddar that is giving me heartburn!

And I don’t even like cheese!

On Thanksgiving, a fundamental shift happened that changed my way of life forever. I discovered… the relish tray.

The original relish tray from just one happy week ago

The original relish tray from just one happy week ago

Until this year, I didn’t know relish trays were a thing. At the Thanksgivings I used to go to in Boston, we would always have a small tray of dill pickles and black olives that was served along with the main meal. I never thought of it so much as a course but rather as a response to the fact that all of us kids loved black olives and dill pickles.

When planning Thanksgiving this year, Ben was quick to claim the relish tray as his contribution. I thought he’d buy some pickles and be done with it. But no… homemade roasted red peppers, pickled onions, caramelized onion dip. Freshly chopped carrots, pickles, and radishes. Soft mozzarella and hard salami. And a big dollop of hummus in the middle.

I spy apples, crackers, and homemade caramelized onion dip.

I spy apples, crackers, and homemade caramelized onion dip.

Just after moving to Seattle, I briefly fell out of love with carrots and hummus. I was seduced by new brands and flavors (cough Trader Joe’s cilantro and jalepeño hummus cough) that ultimately disappointed me. I was ready for a new snack. And that’s when the relish tray fluttered its angelic wings down to earth and landed itself in my eager lap.

Yet a third relish tray.

Yet a third relish tray.

I dig it and I’m stickin’ with it. Raw veggies for dipping; pickles, olives, and hot peppers for munching; salami, cheese, and crackers for snacking. I bought both the salami and cheese at the deli at QFC and they were much cheaper sliced than I could have gotten them packaged. Oh, that horseradish cheddar. So good, so strong, so painful as it churns in my stomach yet I can’t stop! Spice will be the end of me I’m sure. I’m addicted.

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About Emily Suggests

Pineapple rock, lemon platt, butter scotch. A sugarsticky girl shovelling scoopfuls of creams for a christian brother.

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