“Pssaaah. Pwffff. Pip bipp-bitter. Pyeeugh. Who put that olive in my salad?” So spluttered the Professor at lunch the other day… It seems that he’s not keen on olives – but he has his reasons.
“Olives,” he says, “are grown to be crushed. They are NOT meant to be eaten.”
“Look at this Greek salad,” he says, “lovely Feta cheese, sweet, sweet tomatoes, a smattering of onion rings and a light drizzle of olive oil – that’s just perfection on a plate – so whose idea was it to add in the olives? Don’t they know that olives are for making OLIVE OIL?”
I’m not a culinary expert myself, d’you understand, although I believe that “Culinary artists” can skilfully prepare meals that are as pleasing to the eye as they are to the palate. Oops.
No, I just like olive groves. I like sitting in the shade of some ancient olive tree, listening to the stentorian rattle of the cicadas and dabbling in watercolours to pass the time…
I’ve also been working on these ovoid sort of paintings (one seen above). Not sure where they’re going at the moment. Any suggestions?