The combination of olive oil, garlic and lemon juice lifts the spirits in winter.
My plat de resistance is potato salad with garlic and olive oil which we press from the olives from my trees in the grounds of my home near St Remy de Provence. I have four hectares and take the olives down to the local community press at Maussane les Alpilles. I don't produce big quantities; it is just for the family and friends.
I buy extra virgin olive oil by the case (much less expensive this way) and reach for it several times a day. I use it to marinate and cook my protein, saute my vegetables, and drizzle on my salads.
For me, there is no better tapa than a really good stuffed olive.
If I'm doing an olive oil tasting, I would do a very lean bread: an Italian style or pita bread. You want the flavor of the oil to shine; you don't want the bread or anything else to mask it.
I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder when I was barely out of my teens. Like our olive skin tone and caterpillar eyebrows, I guess it just runs in the family.
I don't have olive skin. Nobody could tell from my skin that I'm Mediterranean. I'm quite fair, and I do burn easily.
My father always cooks more polenta than he needs for a meal. The excess he spreads on an oiled surface and chills. Next day, he cuts out chunks, fries them in olive oil and serves with salad.
My mother takes care of my health. She makes sure that the food cooked is in olive oil. She takes charge of our health also because my dad is a heart patient. So on sets, I do take care of myself. But at home, it's my mother who is the boss of our health!
Greek yogurt with some olive oil stirred in can transform many dishes.
Liberals would prefer it if the bald eagle on the Great Seal was holding olive branches in both talons, or, better, an olive branch in one, and maybe a soft cushion in the other, to entice our enemies to lie down and snooze.
