dressed olives {olive condite}

Some of my favorite, standby recipes that I use over and over again come from the vendors at Roman markets. This is standard practice. I’m not alone in turning for advice to the one person in whose best interest it is to keep me coming back for more.

The vendors in the markets are like living, breathing cookbooks. Although there are of course standard recipes for certain dishes, if you ask five different artichoke vendors for advice on how to cook carciofi alla romana, you’ll get five different recipes. In fact, I had a vendor come running up to me recently at the market, only to tell me that I had gotten the recipe that I had written up on my blog – from a different vendor – wrong! “Signora, you have to use wild mint, not spearmint! You better correct that!”

These days we all not only have shelves full of cookbooks but a gazillion recipes at our fingertips through blogs, online magazines and anyone with a twitter account. But nothing beats grabbing a handful of this, and a kilo of that and then having a 10 minute discussion on the merits of parsley versus mint with your fruttivendolo. Because nine times out of ten, at least a half dozen other customers will chime in, and you’ve got yourself a impromptu, community cooking lesson.

I was reminded that I’m not alone in seeking advice from fish mongers, butchers and vegetable vendors. My daughter Sophie is currently working on her thesis, which examines the image of food in Italian cinema over the last five decades. While she was home a few weeks ago, we watched Campo dei Fiori together, and if you want a treat, head to her blog which has a clip of Sophie Loren and Alberto Sordi counseling wary customers on the best way to cook up fish, apples and whatever else they are selling.

Today’s recipe is one I’ve been making since the first week I moved down from Florence to live in Rome with Domenico. I clearly remember seeing these big, dark, shiny black olives for sale in the market at Campo dei Fiori. They weren’t in a jar, as I was used to seeing them, but sold by the weight like fresh fruit. The vendor saw me eyeing them, and started yelling at me (all fruit vendors yell) to try one. “Go ahead, put one in your mouth!”. I did, and it was sweet, not salty as I expected, and really did taste more like a fresh vegetable than the salty or vinegary olives I was used to.

He saw my smile, and so just started filling up a bag with the black beauties. Since I didn’t want to hurt his feelings (I wasn’t yet the hardened market haggler that I’ve since become) I meekly said, va bene, ok, un mezzo kilo. And then asked him what I was supposed to do with them.

A bit of garlic, some parsley and orange peel, a good dose of olive oil and (here was the kicker) your husband will be very happy.

Because these market vendors are clever beyond belief. He saw my obviously new wedding ring. He saw my hesitation over the olives. He knew what would convince me to buy a half kilo of his produce.

And 20 years later? Domenico still loves this ‘recipe.’ And I’m still going back to the same fruit stand for my recipes.

olive condite {dressed olives}

1/2 pound / 1/4 kilo black olives*
peel from one orange, finely chopped
1/2 cup chopped parsley
2-3 tablespoons finely chopped garlic (spring garlic if its in season)
1 small red hot pepper (optional)
1/4 cup olive oil
1/4 tsp salt

*The olives that I use are black olives sold in bulk in Roman markets. As far as I can understand they are very mature when they are picked, late in the season. They have been cured by salting them for a few days, to let the bitter water out. They are then rinsed off, and sold as is. You can substitute any big, fat good quality black olives for this recipe. The sweeter the better.

Put the olives in a bowl, and add the rest of the ingredients. Stir well and store in a jar. You can eat them right away, but they are even better a day or so later. But this is not a recipe for preserving olives. Think of them more as a salad or side dish. I usually serve them along with some really great mozzarella. Or put a small bowl of them out at cocktail time.