We like olives. We have tried lots of types and I have even done my own. Didn’t put enough salt in if I have to be honest. Not for the flavour – but the preservation – so they weren’t firm enough.
Adelina unhelpfully told me this after the event when I moaned saying mine had gone soft whereas hers were still very firm and juicy.
When we buy them – which is most of the time now, after the above failure – we like the ones marinated (aliñada) in herbs, preferably with a couple of chillies thrown in too.
I went to the nice Moroccan man down the street where I buy my veg and sometimes Moroccan bread.
“I’ll have some aceitunas,” I said mixing my languages like everyone else.
“Yes madam. What sort madam?”
“Yes madam. These are picante madam.
“That will be 50 pence madam.”
Very good they are too. When we buy them in Spain, we get the marinade. But these were just dry in a dinky little plastic bag, with more of a paste.
Yummy. I managed to make the bag last two days, but I was back the day after for more.