The Olive Story

There was a point in my life when blueberries and olives were the same thing. Both round, dark-colored, eaten with salad, and disgusting.

Olives were first introduced to my palate on the day I graduated preschool. My classmates and I were waiting patiently on the carpet as instructed by our teacher, Ms. Appeda.  Ms. Appeda turned off the lights in the classroom to prepare a surprise party for us kids.

The bags of chips, donuts, and cookies got us excited about not eating cafeteria food. Ms. Appeda and her assistant put plates on our desks and took turns placing food on it. By the time they were done, I was seated at my desk and was face to face with olives (except I didn’t know it at the time). It was black, round, and squishy. Curiosity convinced me to try it and to my horror, it was spit out with disgust. My classmate who sat next to me then said, “You don’t like the blueberries? Can I have it then?” Of course he could have it.

It was several years after the olive incident when I discover the wonderful taste of blueberries. As for olives, I love them now because my taste bud has lost its articulation.

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2 thoughts on “The Olive Story

  1. I’ve never been a fan of olives, nor blueberries. Unless blueberries are mixed with certain foods like yogurt or ice cream then I’m out. But I will never like olives. They have this “dead, bitter” taste to them. Seeing them on pizza disturbs me.

    Liked by 1 person

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