::hoards the olives to share with Connie and Laura::
Delurking 1: Because we don't always check our e-mail.
::brings olive tapenade to share with the olive-lovers. delicious, delicious tapenade....::
I have a very important question, the answer to which may shake up my entire world view.
Is the tapenade made from black olives or not? Because TJ's has a green olive tapenade, and if that is the case, my whole perspective on the muffaletta is upended. Not definitionally, of course - no tapenade = no muffaletta. But whether I will ever eat one or not hangs in the balance.
My vegetarian muffaletta is just bread and olive tapenade then. I'm down with green or black. (giggling at all the evil side glances)
delicious, delicious tapenade
Mmmmmmmm.
In my experience, the olive salad is made of green olives. I'm not gonna say it has to be, though.
Well, that changes everything. I just assumed they were that scourge upon the earth, the black olive.
I am a fan of both black olives and green olives. I didn't know until recently that green olives are just unripe black olives. I thought they were a different variety.
I don't think there's a variety or a preparation of olive that I don't like--black, green, stuffed, pits in or out, Spanish, kalamata, etc. Well, olive loaf, no (sorry, Andi). But even if you can't abide olives, there's olive oil, in all its weights and variances. If you can't stand the taste, it's marvelous in cosmetics for those of us who can't do chemicals and ordinary softeners like lanolin, glycerin, and, um, stuff. Not to mention, I don't think there's a more gorgeously figured wood than olive wood. I would kill for one of the olive wood salad bowls I saw one summer at a shop in Napa. Or, you know, even the salad spoons.
Olive wood is beautiful. I have done olive oil tastings and that is good times (for those of us that like olives, anyway). I am more pleased to be living in olive country than almond country (yes, almond-stuffed olives are very much a thing here).
'*Makes note to look for spoons for Beverly