When Little Big Brother was still smaller than me he would sit on my step-daddy's lap at the kitchen table and eat olives. Little Big Brother wouldn't just eat olives, though, he'd stick one on each of his fingers and eat them off one by one. And he didn't have to be with his dad to do this, either. The little man was more than willing to sit on our Mimi's lap and eat olives or even pal around with our cousin A at the table, laughing and eating olives like two peas in a pod. (If you ask them, they must be more related than Little Big Brother and I are because they're funny; I'm not one bit funny. But that's another story.)
When I'm cooking with olive oil I don't usually think much about where it came from or the many olives that had to be picked to make the beautiful oil. But I do think about where I come from and the people who helped me become the person I am today.
With Little Big Brother off at his first day of college today, tonight seemed like a perfect night to enjoy some olive oil with dinner. It was like a sign from the heavens that I received a box full of olive oil sent by the sweet people from the Foodbuzz Tastemaker Program.
