So Molly's comment from the last post (about olives and feta) led me directly to this post. (If you don't know Molly, you should. There are not enough adjectives in the world that I could use to describe the wonderfulness that is Molly.) But first, I need to provide you with a little bit of background information....
I have known Molly since my freshman year in high school. We had mutual friends. And then we "ran" track together. It involved lots of laughing. As we made our way through our high school years, I began to refer to her as "my best friend, Molly." Our friendship grew to the point where I no longer knocked on the door at her house, I just walked in. I love her parents. Her mother is an extraordinary hostess and her father is quite a comical character. He is slightly older than the normal dad for our age group and Hungarian. He is smitten with Molly - his only daughter - and dotes on her like you wouldn't believe. Her mother and father are both wonderful human beings - its where Molly gets her wonderfulness from.
So anyway, there was a time when we were away at college that we lived in the same apartment complex. I would walk across the parking lot to Molly's and we would sit and chat and do nothing - aside from drinking banana foster favored coffee, and eat these outstanding deli olives from the farmer's market. They were gifts from her father. For Molly. He came to visit her at about once a week and when he noticed that she was out of olives or coffee, her would bring her more. And then I would eat and drink them. For months it went on like this - the olives and coffee - and I was in heaven. And then one day, there weren't any olives at Molly's. You would have thought the world had come to an end if you had heard the panic in my voice. She had finally told him that she didn't really like the olives all that much and so he stopped bringing them. It was really only fair. I had months with the olives and they weren't really intended for me. All is fair in love and olives.
Big sigh. And so now, when I eat olives, I think of Molly and her parents. (I say parents because her mother knows how much I love olives and has often made for me a black olive and cream cheese spread to eat on little mini sandwiches.) I also think about how much I love them - Molly and her family...and olives.