I hated this stuff as a child, and I'm not in love with it as an adult. I have, "issues" with pickled foods. Still, my husband and son enjoy them, and it really is a simple thing to make-I just don't eat it.
As a friend once asked, "So if your dad had been a shoemaker, would you be going barefoot, unable to look at another shoe?" I don't know...maybe? I mean, I don't know that I wouldn't go barefoot, unable to look at another shoe.
I do have a funny story about the perils of delivering this stuff on a truck in the summer, well it was funny because I wasn't there. If I'd been there, I'd have to add it to the list of childhood traumas. Right. So my dad was delivering several barrels of this stuff on a warm summer day. He had the windows down on the truck, and stopped to get gas. By the time he returned to the truck, a swarm of bees figured out where the sweet smell was coming from, and filled the back of the truck, settling over the barrels of pickled cauliflower.
Bees be damned, the old man was punctual when there were people waiting for deliveries, so he got in the truck, and started driving (I know, I can't imagine doing it either). By the time he arrived at the next stop, the bees had all flown out the windows. Just another day at work.
Consider yourselves warned, should you wish to transport this to your favourite picnic spot.
The recipe may be found, HERE. It gets better after a few days, so be patient.