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I went through a craving when I was pregnant for bread and butter pickles. I went through a large jar of them in less than a week sometimes. Now I'll eat a few but not very many of either dill or bread and butter kinds.
My Mom makes these pickles - I know not the real name of them and neither does she. We just call them Daddy's Pickles because they're Dad's favorite. She ferments them in a barrel in brine in our basement for a month or two. She'll scrape this mouldy slime off them once a week or so and then change the brine once or twice. I don't recall the whole process but the end result is a pickle is a very unique, aged, sweet flavor. Almost like pineapple juice just before it goes bad. But this flavor isn't bad. It's very, very good.
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"Always learn the rules so that you can break them properly." Dalai Lama
My Karma just ran over your Dogma. 
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