“No thanks, I’m not really an olive guy.” “Not the biggest fan of olives” “Not much of an olive fan.” These are just a few of the myriad of things I would say when offered olives. Complete disingenuous fabrications. I’d never so much as tasted an olive my entire life. I can only assume that at some point, a younger invariably more stubborn Josh decided based on the colour or texture that they simply weren’t for him. Did they look too much like vegetables? Was it the appearance of the jar? The way they would float in some kind of auspicious, embryonic liquid? Whatever the reason, not only would I not try them, I’d actually conjured fake memories of trying and disliking them. Well, in the interests of my newly minted mindset, I figured ‘What the hell?’.
Unsurprisingly, like most other things I’d refused to try, they’re delicious! Salty yet hearty, not dissimilar in texture to meat. Why didn’t anyone tell me? Are they an ‘acquired taste’ as the more dare I say ‘pretentious’ of us might say? That’s it, scratch it off the stubborn list, olives are great. The next step of course, was to sample Olives drenched in alcohol. I needed to channel my inner fictional espionage agent. I needed a Vodka Martini. I enlisted the help of food and travel blogger extraordinaire Christina from Snaps of Wander to take me to an appropriately up market drinking establishment. It was here that I finally sampled James Bond’s drink of choice. And…turns out, I’m not really a ‘Vodka Martini guy.”
Here’s to trying new things.
Photo credit Snaps of Wander