In my experience, olives are one of the few things for which there are no grey areas. It’s all very black and white; people either love olives or they hate them. I hate olives. I want to like them. They are cute and fancy, but not pretentious. I just don’t like them. Once a year, usually at Christmas time, I eat one just to be absolutely certain I still don’t like them. With this in mind, I have said that should I ever write a food memoir, I would call it The Yearly Olive in honor of this practice. My blogging about food and food-related activities will be sorted into this category named for my not-yet-realized dream of documenting my adventures in eating.