Or jars of bad stuff if you’re a bit of a witch. But I really think even the other gals in your coven couldn’t help but feel loved if you presented them with a jar of some evil concoction with a fabric label like this.
That’s a jar of our very own olives.
I am stunned by how productive our tiny courtyard has been. Our small vegie patch and three olive trees have really given us an enormous amount of food. I mean, we’re hardly self-sufficient but that doesn’t stop me from pretending I’m in an episode of The Good Life every time I harvest something for dinner.
There is nothing like the sharp crunch of your knife through a just-picked stem of silver beet or the satisfaction of eating something you’ve grown yourself. And if that something is an olive. Well, we all know how I feel about olives.
But when I say nothing like it, I suppose child-birth and marriage and stuff like that might be up there. But these are bloody good olives. As in, it’s lucky Andrew proposed first because if the olives had asked for my hand in marriage before he did, I might have accepted.
We collected our olives from the trees way back in April and then Andrew gave them a biblical brining (yes, he’s quite the disciplinarian) for 40 days and 40 nights.
We packed them under olive oil in jars with a bit of garlic and relegated them to a dark part of the laundry cupboard. We were delighted, when we cracked the first jar some 4 or 5 months later, to find they were edible. Delicious, even.
I wanted to make some labels that were a bit special for our jars. I bought the fabric tape a while back (can’t remember exactly where but if you do a search on Etsy for “fabric tape” you will find similar things and other wonderful stuff like this bunting tape . Love.)
You might also recognise the olive stamp. It’s the same one I posted about here.
So we’re feeling very chuffed with how our first crop have turned out and as I type the olives are flowering again with what we hope will be a bumper crop.
I’m feeling pretty covetous of my own 10 or so jars olives (can you covet something you already own? I think perhaps not. Fellow grammar nerds, please discuss) so I’m limiting who gets a jar. To that end, I asked interested family and close friends to submit, in writing, an argument (not less than 100 words) as to what they’ve done for me that warrants reward with a jar or these: the holy grail of olives. And mum, if you’re reading this, that draft you showed me is weak and needs to be beefed up if you really want to be in with a chance. Reasons such as “I gave birth to you and then put up with you as teenager/young adult/I continue to put up with you” are predictable at best and utterly trite at worst and will get you nowhere, okay? You’re going to have to do better than that. They’re bloody good olives.
Anyone else out there growing and/or preserving? Love to hear about it.
PS: Well, to be honest, my olives are actually a tiny bit salty and some are soft and slightly bitter. So, ummmm, sorry to those who responded to the tender for a jar. And mum, giving me the gift of life probably is enough. Just.