Still, she had brought the Jar of pickling vinegar and as I stood there clutching my shallots, she smiled, so I knew it was going to be all right. Except, of course, she could not get the lid off the jar so I had to let her keep a tight grasp on my shallots as I prised it off for her.
She showed her gratitude in the usual way, which left me with a slight limp for the rest of the week, but on the whole the situation passed with very little further upset. Although, I did feel she was somewhat rougher than really necessary in the way she jammed my shallots into the pickling jar with little or no sense of the ceremony of the occasion.
I’m sure that there are many men amongst (both of) you gathered here who feel that a woman’s touch on their shallots as something they look forward to, only to be somewhat disappointed by the rather perfunctory way she actually handles them when the time comes.
Still, as the old saying goes: ‘you can’t pickle onions without at least having some onions, a jar and something to pickle them in.’ A bit literal when compared with many old maxims, saws and sayings, but I feel you will get the gist.
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