What’s the “Big Dill” About the LA Fermentation Festival?

Join me July 12th at the Los Angeles Fermentation Festival for a delicious day of pickles & fermented delights! Use my code BEAN to save $5 on your ticket!

I love pickles.

In fact, I love all things pickled.

The last time I was in Germany, I spent a week in Berlin and wanted to take a fun day trip. While normal people probably plan such trips around cultural activities or historical sights, I generally tend to plan mine around food. (If you really want me to tell the truth, I Google the native food scene to death for each place I want to visit before I even decide on traveling. If nothing tickles my fancy, I don’t go. Yeah, it’s THAT bad.)

I had found that Spreewald was known for producing their famous gherkins, and decided right then and there I had to make the short trek from Berlin to stuff my face with as many salty, crispy, German delights as I could handle. I dreamt of the pickled goodness for days, counting down the moment I’d hop on a train and arrive in the City O’ Pickles. I started visualizing objects in my eyesight as pickles. My currywurst and Döner Kebabs took on the shapes of the mighty gherkin (Editor’s Note: The Roaming Bean is not in any way shape or form disrespecting the holiness that is one of the greatest food items ever contributed to the human race, AKA the kebab.). I mentioned repeatedly to my friend how badly I wanted to visit GherkinLand. At first, he was in agreement that it sounded fabulous, but in the end, he would not go with me. Instead of traveling to what could have possibly been the Mecca of Pickles, I stayed in Berlin and drowned my sorrows in a few lengthy, harsh pub crawls that left my head pounding for days. I ended up kicking myself in the rear for the next couple months, as I continued traveling through one country to the next, regretting the absence of my much-anticipated sodium-induced pickled food coma. In all actuality, I’ve never gotten over the fact that I missed Pickle World, and I’ve lost many nights of sleep over it.

Luckily, the inaugural Los Angeles Fermented Food Festival is kicking off this weekend in Venice, CA on July 12th! Aside from a promising collection of fermented goodies from kombucha, kimchi, sourdough bread and booze, is of course the presence of the mighty pickle, complete with a DIY pickle bar AND pickle contest. It’s as if the heavens have opened and poured a sea of pickles into my world, and I can’t wait to eat them. Lots of them. All of them. There will be hands-on learning experiences and lectures, too, so if you’ve laid in bed at night, staring at the dark ceiling dreaming of what foods you could tastily ferment, then this is for you. (And because I can’t be the only on in the world guilty of having thoughts of food disrupt my sleeping patterns.) Use my code BEAN to receive $5 off the purchase of your ticket, which can be done here.

The all-age festival runs from 11am-4pm, and the farm-to-bar area, which will be for those 21+, will be available from 12pm-3:30. Kiddos 15 and under are free with an adult. Venice Arts Plaza 681 N. Venice Blvd. Venice, CA 9029.

Look for me there. I’ll be live Tweeting where the pickles are. ( Follow me for the pickley goodness @TheRoamingBean.)

LA Fermentation Festival has graciously invited me to attend this event. All opinions, like always, are my own. 

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About The Roaming Bean (109 Articles)
You're probably wondering what the heck is a "Roaming Bean"... Given that I am clearly not a Bean, and my name is Jen, what gives with this Bean thing, right? A friend of mine called me JenBean as a child, and it kinda stuck. Actually, it really stuck... even my license plate says Jenbean. And seeing as I have this grand lust to wander the world, The Roaming Bean seemed suitable. I've changed my career path more times than I have my underwear (minus all the times I've gone commando).... from animating, to forensic pathology, to international business, to fashion marketing and even to my wonderful and favorite of the bunch, degree in culinary arts, nothing kept my attention. Nothing was fun enough to do every day for the rest of my life. I mean, even though I cooked for celebrities in the heart of Hollywood, CA, why the hell would I want to sweat my ass off in a ridiculously HOT kitchen for most of the day and go home smelling like beef and onions? And the chef hat?? Do you know what that did to my hair?? Enter traveling.... The rainy day I descended down the tower of Notre Dame in Paris, gripping on to the railing for dear life so not to slip and tumble to an early death from the torrential down pour that was causing a small flood in the stairwell, my life changed. When I safely made it to the ground, legs shaky from an apparent lack of fitness it requires to walk up and down 387 steep stairs, I realized my hands were stained a delightful copper color from the rusted hand rail I had so dearly clung to. Desperate to get the icky stuff off my supple hands, and no running water in sight, I did what any other hopeless idiot would have done: I washed my hands in the nearest Parisian gutter. It was that moment that changed my life... I threw away my hair dryer, my rolling luggage and my dignity. I let my hair go natural, I bought a back pack and I CAMPED through Europe for a month and a half. Yes my friends, I crossed over into a savage traveling beast. Ok, a lot of people travel that way. But I didn't. And I'm so incredibly thankful for that rainy day in Paris that made me realize the world is a pretty sweet place. That realization led me on a quest; a quest to get out there, see things, soak up some local culture and eat my way around the world (with minimal food-related illnesses, such as but not limited to raging diarrhea).

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