When I was living in New Zealand (I was very young; I remember sitting in the old kitchen before the renovations), my parents bought olives from the Italian market in Mt Victoria, Wellington. The olives were placed in a bowl, in the centre of the table, and we all picked them from there. One day, my mother noticed that the pips that I carefully stored on the side of my plate.
"How many olives did you eat with your meal, Maria?"
I was quite young, but I already understood that for my mother to ask me how many olives I had eaten when she could plainly see for herself the pips at the side of my plate, she was going to scold me. I was also being raised in a Greek home where irreverence to one's parents was not tolerated.
"Seven," I gulped.
"Seven?" she repeated. "That's too many! You only need to eat three or four!"
To this day, I still remember this little episode. Since then, I never ate more than three or four (or five at the most). Olives were an imported - and expensive - product in New Zealand.
Now that I live in Crete, I don't have this problem, even when we don't cure our own. At 5-6 euro a kilo, they still aren't cheap to buy - no locally produced food really is - but there is a plentiful supply.
Olive pips on a plate - my own creation |
Olive pips are used to produce low-grade olive oil (πηρυνέλαιο) while their by-product is still used as fuel for radiators.
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Closer to home I have discovered California olives that are lightly brined for my collection of pips:D Until I live in a warmer climate tis is the best it can be.
ReplyDeleteIt is funny how some things people say to us when we are children always stay in our minds. I remember when my godmother chided me for reaching for the last cupcake on the plate, saying, "you should NEVER take the last one of anything, it isn't good manners." Wow! I still remember how that made me feel.
ReplyDeleteYikes! If my father saw that many pits on my plate, even today, he'd scold me! Not because of the cost, but because they're high in fat and salt. I couldn't eat that many even now that I'm on my own, because I'd hear him scolding me in my head. \
ReplyDeleteIt is funny how we can't let go of things like that, isn't it?