The above title was appropriated from one of my favorite TV shows, Trailer Park Boys. If you need context, Google the quote or "old blue jay burger."
I bought jarred Castelvetrano olives at Stop&Rob this morning. It was early.
It was early, because I try to be there before 7AM on the weekends, because S&R is now the only full line grocery store remaining in fabulous River City and I just cannot handle the crowds later in the day.
Crowds that combine a singular desire to complete their shopping in fifteen minutes or less with a could care less approach to how many people they run into, run over or run down like so many dogs in the road.
Setting aside my agoraphobia, it is never too early in the morning for a serious salt craving. Hence the olives.
But the store bought olives looked sad and they made me sad as I stowed them into our crowded refrigerator. I knew they were not everything an olive could be nor would they meet the expectations of my taste buds so recently returned from the Upstate NY haven of great Italian food all sorts, Schenectady, NY.
But onward Steven, ever onward the fridge needs cleaning.
So while tossing out a container of cottage cheese (it got pushed to the back behind the beer and had grown a mold colony of such variation and extreme unpleasantness, that I could not even bring myself to scrape it clean and wash it out for recycling. Humble apologies to Mother Earth for this failing,) I noticed the leftover container of Large Green Sicilian Olives (Spicy Hot) from last October's trip to Kalustyan's in NYC:
Correction, it was not a container of leftover olives, it was a container of the chili flake and neutral oil deliciousness that the olives had marinated in.
I was deeply skeptical that the container was not by now a biohazard, but after a deep sniff and tentative taste, I was able to determine that chili oil melange was in good standing.
In truth, though still in good standing, I was about to rinse out the container because even if it is still good, I have not used it in a year and there is a very good chance it could be in there for another before I figure out something creative to...and then I recalled the sad, store bought Castelvetrano olives. Eu-FUCKING-reka!
This is how you make olives better than store bought Randy:
Oh and Kalustyan's is a monument to amazing foodstuffs from around the planet.
Go there. If I can manage the crowds, you can too.
Kramer out.
I bought jarred Castelvetrano olives at Stop&Rob this morning. It was early.
It was early, because I try to be there before 7AM on the weekends, because S&R is now the only full line grocery store remaining in fabulous River City and I just cannot handle the crowds later in the day.
Crowds that combine a singular desire to complete their shopping in fifteen minutes or less with a could care less approach to how many people they run into, run over or run down like so many dogs in the road.
Setting aside my agoraphobia, it is never too early in the morning for a serious salt craving. Hence the olives.
But the store bought olives looked sad and they made me sad as I stowed them into our crowded refrigerator. I knew they were not everything an olive could be nor would they meet the expectations of my taste buds so recently returned from the Upstate NY haven of great Italian food all sorts, Schenectady, NY.
But onward Steven, ever onward the fridge needs cleaning.
So while tossing out a container of cottage cheese (it got pushed to the back behind the beer and had grown a mold colony of such variation and extreme unpleasantness, that I could not even bring myself to scrape it clean and wash it out for recycling. Humble apologies to Mother Earth for this failing,) I noticed the leftover container of Large Green Sicilian Olives (Spicy Hot) from last October's trip to Kalustyan's in NYC:
Correction, it was not a container of leftover olives, it was a container of the chili flake and neutral oil deliciousness that the olives had marinated in.
I was deeply skeptical that the container was not by now a biohazard, but after a deep sniff and tentative taste, I was able to determine that chili oil melange was in good standing.
In truth, though still in good standing, I was about to rinse out the container because even if it is still good, I have not used it in a year and there is a very good chance it could be in there for another before I figure out something creative to...and then I recalled the sad, store bought Castelvetrano olives. Eu-FUCKING-reka!
This is how you make olives better than store bought Randy:
Oh and Kalustyan's is a monument to amazing foodstuffs from around the planet.
Go there. If I can manage the crowds, you can too.
Kramer out.
