One of my first cooking sessions, I mean life lessons...well both from Nina was the process of curing olives. I just finished picking the remainder of the olives from the tree in my yard. I have about two pounds (not British currency) of ripe black olives that need curing.
It's been a while since I learned how to do it, but the one thing I never forgot was my Ninja Nina's analogy of olives, the curing process, and their relationship to toxic relationships.
The first part goes like this. Green olives are simply olives that are not ripe, although they, like ripe black olives are quite bitter on the inside. It takes less time to cure them. Nina says
"Green olives are less toxic. They are easily cured as well, simply soak them in distilled water." She went on to explain that green olives are like the beginning of toxic relationships if we are not careful, watching, or aware of what we are attracting or letting into our lives.
She had me take a bite of the green olive before it was cured and it was terrible. Unripened fruit is sour and dour and stays on the taste buds for more than an hour...sometimes all day. Yes, I rhymed that on purpose.
I felt like when someone takes a bite of something horrible and then offers it to you, so they have someone to be disgusted with; maybe that's where the phrase 'misery loves company' comes from.
We washed the green olives. Nina had a big wooden mallet that she hit the olives with to open them. It was a little scary watching her give those little fruits the Ninja Smack Down. We then put them in a container covered in water and an air tight lid. They had to sit for a week before we tested them for flavor again. I was hoping I was not elected to be the 'Taster.'
"Now. when I say 'easily cured,' you understand what the cure is yes?" I shook my head. She let out a heavy sigh, and explained that 'easily cured' means the relationship is new,and although it can be delicate, there is possibly something noticeably wrong from the beginning, therefore it's easier to let go of if you have less skin or time invested in the game." She said and winked at me.
At that time, I supposed she was right, even though I knew there were times in my life where I wanted things to work so badly that I just hung in or on for a while longer. As if to read my mind, she added.
"Comfort is what happens if you stay too long. And then good or bad, you just stay." She handed me another batch of green olives to wash and prepare.
A few hours later, we had finished all of the green olives and were onto preparing the black olives.
"These are a little different" she said, handing me a large bowl of them "we still wash and cut them, but we will add salt before the water to make them a nice soaking brine."
We had more black olives than green olives and Nina explained that the time difference is generally about two months in between green and black olives but she got hers from different regions, so she could do them all at once.
During the second run of olive curing, Nina used a paring knife like me to cut the olives.
"What happened to your hammer?" I asked, smirking.
"It was a mallet, not a hammer, and the black olives stain. Look at your fingers, Smarty pants." She was right about my fingers, not about my pants. Black olives stain.
"Taste" she said handing me a black olive that she had cut open. I was reluctant. It was like being handed a turd to try. I knew it was bad, but I obliged and tasted.
I was right it was horrible, even a little more horrible than the green one if that was possible. It reminded me of when you burn your tongue on plastic and then everything tastes like that for a week.
"The curing of black olives takes longer" she said. She had just finished pouring salt over a batch. She stopped and looked at me over her glasses the way she often did with her scolding yet caring eyes. "These, as you know, because you tasted them, are far more horrendous than the mild green ones." I nodded my head in agreement to her nodding her head.
"However, now you have a problem. You stayed too long in the relationship and your empathy becomes sympathy and often resentment. The loyal ones always know what I mean here. Do you?"
"I do." I answered. I did, and unfortunately have since known exactly what she meant.
"So, we salt and add water, then they will soak for a week, we will drain and rinse, and then we will remake the brine and let them soak another week. Same as a relationship that is toxic. You sit in the same stew for weeks, months, sometimes years until you finally decide that you are drained and need to be rinsed. If you get that far, you are lucky." She threw her hands up in air as if she instantly had an epiphany.
"If not, then maybe your life looks and smells like this." She opened a container with a batch of black olives that hadn't cured, but had somehow rotted instead. They were stinky (like rotted fruit can be) and mushy.
"They look like they've given up, yes?" I nodded, holding my nose while she stirred up the stench with a spoon before replacing the container top. " I never want to see you look like that my Dear. It's bad. Let's eat lunch!"
Yes, she's never really cared if lunch is followed by dissecting a frog or anything horrid, gruesome or disgusting. When it's time to eat. It's simply time to eat.
The first part goes like this. Green olives are simply olives that are not ripe, although they, like ripe black olives are quite bitter on the inside. It takes less time to cure them. Nina says
"Green olives are less toxic. They are easily cured as well, simply soak them in distilled water." She went on to explain that green olives are like the beginning of toxic relationships if we are not careful, watching, or aware of what we are attracting or letting into our lives.
She had me take a bite of the green olive before it was cured and it was terrible. Unripened fruit is sour and dour and stays on the taste buds for more than an hour...sometimes all day. Yes, I rhymed that on purpose.
I felt like when someone takes a bite of something horrible and then offers it to you, so they have someone to be disgusted with; maybe that's where the phrase 'misery loves company' comes from.
"Now. when I say 'easily cured,' you understand what the cure is yes?" I shook my head. She let out a heavy sigh, and explained that 'easily cured' means the relationship is new,and although it can be delicate, there is possibly something noticeably wrong from the beginning, therefore it's easier to let go of if you have less skin or time invested in the game." She said and winked at me.
At that time, I supposed she was right, even though I knew there were times in my life where I wanted things to work so badly that I just hung in or on for a while longer. As if to read my mind, she added."Comfort is what happens if you stay too long. And then good or bad, you just stay." She handed me another batch of green olives to wash and prepare.
A few hours later, we had finished all of the green olives and were onto preparing the black olives.
"These are a little different" she said, handing me a large bowl of them "we still wash and cut them, but we will add salt before the water to make them a nice soaking brine."
We had more black olives than green olives and Nina explained that the time difference is generally about two months in between green and black olives but she got hers from different regions, so she could do them all at once.
During the second run of olive curing, Nina used a paring knife like me to cut the olives.
"What happened to your hammer?" I asked, smirking.
"It was a mallet, not a hammer, and the black olives stain. Look at your fingers, Smarty pants." She was right about my fingers, not about my pants. Black olives stain. "Taste" she said handing me a black olive that she had cut open. I was reluctant. It was like being handed a turd to try. I knew it was bad, but I obliged and tasted.
I was right it was horrible, even a little more horrible than the green one if that was possible. It reminded me of when you burn your tongue on plastic and then everything tastes like that for a week.
"The curing of black olives takes longer" she said. She had just finished pouring salt over a batch. She stopped and looked at me over her glasses the way she often did with her scolding yet caring eyes. "These, as you know, because you tasted them, are far more horrendous than the mild green ones." I nodded my head in agreement to her nodding her head.
"However, now you have a problem. You stayed too long in the relationship and your empathy becomes sympathy and often resentment. The loyal ones always know what I mean here. Do you?"
"I do." I answered. I did, and unfortunately have since known exactly what she meant.
"So, we salt and add water, then they will soak for a week, we will drain and rinse, and then we will remake the brine and let them soak another week. Same as a relationship that is toxic. You sit in the same stew for weeks, months, sometimes years until you finally decide that you are drained and need to be rinsed. If you get that far, you are lucky." She threw her hands up in air as if she instantly had an epiphany.
"If not, then maybe your life looks and smells like this." She opened a container with a batch of black olives that hadn't cured, but had somehow rotted instead. They were stinky (like rotted fruit can be) and mushy.
"They look like they've given up, yes?" I nodded, holding my nose while she stirred up the stench with a spoon before replacing the container top. " I never want to see you look like that my Dear. It's bad. Let's eat lunch!"
Yes, she's never really cared if lunch is followed by dissecting a frog or anything horrid, gruesome or disgusting. When it's time to eat. It's simply time to eat.
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