It’s my dream to be mayor of Picklesburgh,” declares Mason, whipping the crowd into a cheering frenzy. He looks confident, unlike the other 10 contestants nervously eyeing their one-litre jars of pickle juice, wondering what they’ve signed up for. As the crowd finishes counting down, Mason raises his jar and downs the juice in just eight seconds. The crowd gasps, while I almost gag. It’s a hot, humid day in Pittsburgh, but even I’m not that thirsty.
Celebrating its 10th year, Picklesburgh is America’s top speciality food festival with more than 250,000 visitors. Laughter flows over chilled pickle beer and lemonade, with animated debates taking place about whether to try dill-stuffed pretzels, pickle pizza or candy floss, as a woman screams from the back of a pickle-shaped bucking bronco.
