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I just wanted to say that tonight's musical selection goes out to the olive.
I've discovered that in I love olives. This isn't some new revelation. I've known this for a year or so now. I just wanted to public state that I am enraptured with olives, good ones or even not so good ones (you know, those black Spanish olives you buy in a can and serve at dinner parties).
I used to not have a taste for them. I've no idea why. I realize that my mother isn't a big fan of them and thus they weren't used in her cooking much; she doesn't even have olives with her martinis. I've always loved olive oil, and it's an instrumental part of our cooking in the Anderson household, but the olive itself is pretty much abandoned.
Lately, the perfect light lunch has been a bit of dry Italian sausage, maybe a bit of cheese and bread, and a whole lot of kalamata olives, un-pitted, of course. I love it all, the texture, the brine, the . . . the . . . juiciness, I guess (that probably goes back to the brine). I even love the pits.
I've developed a love affair with a kind of olive bread from the Renaissance Bakery where they make a bread with olives baked into it. It's amazing. I get a small loaf and it's all I'll eat for an entire day. I'll have a bit of bread with either a coke or a glass of wine. Usually, the intention is too make sandwiches out of it, which can be brilliant. I may get one out of it, if I'm lucky. I'll just start slicing it up and then by the time the evening is out I've got an a bit of the middle left and I'm looking for a late night snack. That's when I pop open an extra soda to wash down the bread. There's just so much going on with it: the crustiness of the bread, it's inner softness, then everything I love about olives. This isn't something for the Atkins diet.
When I get a Chicken Caesar Salad (another odd culinary love) I just have to have olives in it. They make it all come together nicely.
I just thought I'd share.
Good night now.
PS: I also have an odd, guilty musical love affair with Smash Mouth.
I've discovered that in I love olives. This isn't some new revelation. I've known this for a year or so now. I just wanted to public state that I am enraptured with olives, good ones or even not so good ones (you know, those black Spanish olives you buy in a can and serve at dinner parties).
I used to not have a taste for them. I've no idea why. I realize that my mother isn't a big fan of them and thus they weren't used in her cooking much; she doesn't even have olives with her martinis. I've always loved olive oil, and it's an instrumental part of our cooking in the Anderson household, but the olive itself is pretty much abandoned.
Lately, the perfect light lunch has been a bit of dry Italian sausage, maybe a bit of cheese and bread, and a whole lot of kalamata olives, un-pitted, of course. I love it all, the texture, the brine, the . . . the . . . juiciness, I guess (that probably goes back to the brine). I even love the pits.
I've developed a love affair with a kind of olive bread from the Renaissance Bakery where they make a bread with olives baked into it. It's amazing. I get a small loaf and it's all I'll eat for an entire day. I'll have a bit of bread with either a coke or a glass of wine. Usually, the intention is too make sandwiches out of it, which can be brilliant. I may get one out of it, if I'm lucky. I'll just start slicing it up and then by the time the evening is out I've got an a bit of the middle left and I'm looking for a late night snack. That's when I pop open an extra soda to wash down the bread. There's just so much going on with it: the crustiness of the bread, it's inner softness, then everything I love about olives. This isn't something for the Atkins diet.
When I get a Chicken Caesar Salad (another odd culinary love) I just have to have olives in it. They make it all come together nicely.
I just thought I'd share.
Good night now.
PS: I also have an odd, guilty musical love affair with Smash Mouth.
