Is Relish Made From Pickles

Last weekend, I was slathering relish on a hot dog at a backyard barbecue when my friend Sarah squinted at the jar. “Wait,” she said, pausing mid-scoop, “is relish actually made from pickles?” I laughed and told her it was, but then I froze. Was I sure? I mean, we all know pickles are cucumbers, and relish is that sweet, chunky green stuff—but are they really the same thing? Let’s just say my hot dog got cold while I Googled furiously on my phone, and now I’m here to spill the tangy truth.

So, let’s cut straight to it: yes, relish is made from pickles. Specifically, it’s made from chopped pickles—usually cucumber pickles—that have been finely diced and mixed with a few extra ingredients. Think of relish as pickles’ more outgoing, party-ready cousin. While a pickle sits there all whole and smug on your sandwich, relish gets chopped up, sweetened, and spiced so it can mingle with hot dogs, burgers, and tuna salad.

The process is almost painfully simple. First, you take cucumbers (or sometimes other veggies like peppers or onions) and brine them in vinegar, salt, and spices—exactly like you would for regular pickles. After they’ve soaked up all that tangy goodness, you chop them into tiny bits. Then, you add sugar, more vinegar, and maybe some mustard seed or turmeric to give it that iconic yellow-green color. Boom: you’ve got relish.

But hold on—isn’t relish sweeter than a pickle?

You’re totally right to ask. The key difference is sugar. Sweet relish, the kind you squirt on hot dogs, has a ton of added sugar, which transforms the flavor from “sour pickle” into “sweet and tangy condiment.” Dill relish, on the other hand, skips the sugar and keeps things savory, so it tastes much closer to a standard dill pickle. That’s why your brain thinks they’re different foods—because the sugar content changes everything.

Fun fact: there’s also bread-and-butter relish, which is basically a chopped-up version of bread-and-butter pickles. Those pickles are already sweet and spiced, so the relish just doubles down on the sweetness. It’s like pickles went to a spa and came back as relish—same base, but way more pampered.

But what about those green peppers? And the weird neon color?

I’m glad you’re paying attention. Some relishes use green bell peppers instead of cucumbers, or mix them in for extra crunch. That’s totally common, especially in homemade relishes. But the stuff you buy at the store—the bright, almost radioactive green relish? That’s usually cucumbers with food coloring. The turmeric gives it a natural yellow tint, but manufacturers add green dye so it looks “pickle-ish” on your hot dog.

And yes, there’s a whole world beyond cucumber relish. Corn relish, onion relish, and even zucchini relish exist, because humanity refuses to leave any vegetable un-chopped and un-pickled. But when someone says “relish” at a cookout, they mean the pickle-based kind. Unless you’re in the UK, where “relish” can mean any thick, tangy sauce, like Branston pickle. (Yeah, they call a brown, chutney-like thing “pickle,” which just confuses everyone.)

I remember my grandma used to make her own relish every summer. She’d take the cucumbers from her garden, pickle them in a huge jar, then drag out this ancient wooden chopping bowl. She’d dice them until her hand hurt, then stir in sugar, vinegar, and a secret pinch of celery seed. I always thought she was making pickles twice—once whole, then again as relish. Turns out, I wasn’t far off.

So why does this question even come up? I think it’s because we’re so used to seeing pickles as a whole, crunchy spear or a wedge on a burger. Relish looks like a paste, almost like a jam, so our brains register it as a separate category. But texture isn’t identity. A chopped apple is still an apple, and a smoothie is still fruit. Relish is just pickles in a new outfit—with a sugar addiction.

Here’s a little test you can do right now. Go to your fridge, grab a pickle, and slice it into tiny cubes. Taste it. That’s relish. Add a pinch of sugar and a splash of vinegar, and you’ve almost perfectly recreated the store-bought version. The only thing missing is the food coloring and the preservatives that let it sit in your fridge for three years.

Oh, and one more thing: relish isn’t just for hot dogs. You can mix it into egg salad, tartar sauce, or even coleslaw for an extra tangy punch. I’ve seen people put it on deviled eggs, which is either genius or a crime—I haven’t decided yet. Try it and let me know.

So next time someone asks you “Is relish made from pickles?” you can confidently answer yes, and then watch their eyes widen when you explain the sugar conspiracy. You’ll sound like a real condiment authority—which is probably the most niche flex you’ll ever have at a barbecue. And if they push back, just chop up a pickle in front of them. Science wins again.

Anyway, my hot dog is long gone, but I learned something: we eat pickles in disguise all the time. Relish, pickled onions, even some bread-and-butter chips—it’s all the same fermentation party. So go ahead and double up on the relish. You’re just eating extra pickles. And that’s a good thing.