(Memories of Olive by Alberto Vargas)
I think it is beautifulpiece... I love Vargas' work
I was making a pizza tonight, for dinner. Fidel came in to snitch some munchies as I was slicing and dicing. Doing his usual perusal of the activity, he picked up the jar of olives.
"I know you don't like olives, but I do so I am putting some on"
"On your pieces"
"No - on all pieces.You're lucky I'm not putting anchovies on... I'm having anchovy withdrawl."
Funny this distaste of olives in NA. I've come across it many times before, including me. I don't know if it is olives in general or the olives most of us are accustomed to - those salt brined manzilla types, stuffed with pimento, which most of my NA born and bred generation first came to know as "olives".
Up until I was about 6, I hated olives. One night, staying at a hotel, Dad had a drink with an olive in it. Conversation ensued, involving a few " ewwws" on my part I am sure, but I remember him saying:
" I never liked eating them. But the way I learned to like them was to eat a bunch all in a row."
I was game and I did. And I have been hooked ever since - on all olives. But my love is the pickled manzillas with pimento stuffing from that fond memory.
I love them so much that 20+ years ago, I was hanging at my best friend's house; her folks had a party the night before - so we were rummaging the fridge for eats (being a couple of bored growing 15/16 year olds).
A jar of olives...
"May I have a couple?"
You can eat them all if you want, because none of us are going to eat them."
The jar disappeared.
They were good !!
Maybe I should tell you about my raw oyster adventure ...