Shopping Aisles of Olive Oil

My favorite thing we did in Geneva was take Missy (aforementioned black puppy) for a walk along the banks of the river. I found the idyllic Swiss Spring water allusions to be absolutely true. However, skipping rocks in clear, sparkling water is just as difficult in its more murky counterpart. While we walked, Missy tried to drag a 12 foot limb along (roughly the diameter of a flag pole). Very ambitious. It's funny being in that city because people speak so many languages, it's hard to choose one in casual conversation.

The first two nights, we went out to eat at lovely Italian restaurants where Peppe, Hillary's fiance, used to work. His waiter friends brought out amazing appetizers! We sat down, and two minutes later, voila a pizza is served! Then some fancy mushrooms with two kinds of olive oil to try...one from the North and one from Sicily. Variations in the soil and sunlight produce different flavors. People around the Mediterranean seem to have an extensive olive oil knowledge base and talk about them like fine wines. We went in one shop in Nice where the owner only grinds them by hand with a stone mortar and pestle, swearing it makes a difference. Some olive oils go with meat, others are cooked with, and the most delicately-flavored ones are put as the final dressing on dishes. In Texas, I bought the cheapest one at HEB.