I always chop the olives by hand.
I like a rough chop that says
someone still cares about
the preparation of food instead
of settling for little identically
square bits popped out by a
steel thing attached to a cord
that gives it life.
The knife and I give new life to these
olives; messy, uneven life such
as it is. The earthy texture of the
black and the pungency of the green will
soon mix with onion, pimento and the
special piquant of a home-canned Gardiniera.
Aaron Neville croons “Tell It Like It Is”
in my ear as I chop in time to the beat,
the heft of the knife comfortable in
my hand, the flesh of the olives
relenting to the steel determination
of the blade.
Published in Scissors and Spackle magazine 2013.
Image via theflirtyguide.com.