5:00 p.m.
I went back to the English Market after my morning travel writing class. I wanted to experience the market by myself before leaving Cork on Friday. I wanted to spend as much time (or as little time) at every stall possible without feeling rushed or hurried to move on to another place. I am able to take much more in, plus get more accomplished, when I shop by myself.
We have farmer's markets at home, but nothing that compares to the caliber of this Victorian maze of worldly foods and goods. It is really fascinating to see so many cultures come together in celebration of different goods from all over the world. I touched on the market's features in an earlier entry, but somehow I had missed The Real Olive Company, a Mediterranean stall full of olives, artichoke hearts, dolmas, anchovies, sundried tomatoes and blocks of feta the first time I visited. I don't remember when I first started liking olives. I grew up repulsing them. From what I do remember, I woke up one day and their bitter, pungent taste didn’t bother me anymore. Instead, I fell in love with the taste of all the different types and wanted them in my dishes as often as possible. Whenever that time was, it is insignificant. When I approached the Mediterranean stall, I was in olive heaven. Mixed olives, pickled olives, kalamata olives, green olives, olives stuffed with everything from garlic to peppers. I sampled a small, dark olive with a sweet, tangy flavor but unfortunately forgot its name.
After a solid ten minutes of debating what to purchase, I decided on two large, marinated artichoke hearts, a medley of kalamata and red pepper flaked olives, and a few of the garlic, almond and chili stuffed ones. Thank goodness I waited until I got home to eat them.
The first one I tried was one of the best green olives I've ever tasted. I bit down to taste a crunchy, salty garlicky center. Its dull green color was surpassed by its punchy, juicy flavor. Next, I moved on to the almond-stuffed green olive. The salty, crunchiness was very similar to the first one, but had a lighter, nuttier taste. I then tried a medley of small green and kalamata olives, surprised to find a rock-solid pit in the middle of them. Lastly, I popped the chili-stuffed olive into my mouth. After doing so, I went crazy. As my mouth turned to fire, I started sweating. It tasted great, don't get me wrong, but it was one of the spiciest foods I have ever tasted in my life. It brought me back to the time, around eight or nine years ago, when I tried a hot wing at a minor league baseball game. I was attending the game with my family and family friends when I told the dads I could handle the spiciest of wings they had gotten. Well, I was wrong. I began to cry from the intense heat of the wing and had to gulp down a glass of milk. (I hated milk back then). I made the mistake of trying the olive again, somehow thinking the second time around wouldn't be as bad. I was wrong; it was worse. I had to stuff half of a whole pita into my mouth and chug half of my water bottle for the spiciness to subside. After about ten minutes, my mouth returned to normal.
I think if I were to return to the market, I would choose a different flavored olive.
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