The Picklers

We hope it shows in the taste that we take our pickled eggs immensely seriously…but not ourselves!

Actually it’s all Mrs Daggett’s fault! Daggers we called her – and most of the week she was my Grammar School’s dour needlework teacher ( I still hate anything to do with sewing) but on Thursday afternoons she became the Careers teacher.
And Daggers decided that hotel and catering was the career for me. Based I suppose upon the fact that on Saturday evenings I had a job washing up in the village pub. And you didn’t argue with Daggers.

One hotel and catering management degree later I was still no closer to deciding what I wanted to be – and so the years passed. I found myself in a corporate world, making lots of money for other people, always busy meeting targets, added an MBA to my CV, the children grew up, life was OK.

And then I found Dave and I found cyder making. And a little seed of opportunity began to grow. We only dabbled in cyder making but it was surprisingly good – it even won a competition. From there we toyed with the idea of running a hostelry. Somewhere to carry on making our cyder, as well as serving the biggest selection of pickled eggs you ever saw. But then gradually the hostelry idea grew dimmer and the passion for making pickled eggs in all sorts of different flavour combinations grew stronger.

And so, with the unstinting support of my wonderful family and friends, a business was born.

Two years later I made probably the hardest decision ever and threw in my safe job, my security, my hard earned career to give my full attention to the pickled egg emporium. The sense of tradition and heritage involved with our pickled egg revival, the pride in promoting British free range eggs, the science of vinegar, the experimentation with flavour combinations in our Production EggQuarters, the banter out on the road – it all engages me like nothing before.
And so Daggers, I finally know what I want to be – and, begrudgingly, I have to admit you weren’t far off getting it right!



I am the eggman, they are the eggmen.
I am the walrus, goo goo g’ joob’

I am the Walrus by the Beatles. Writer(s): Paul McCartney, John Lennon 
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