Olive Crazy: All About Olives and Olive Oil
Oct 192014
Dirty martini and kalamata bread at Sheehan's Pub in Augusta, GA

Dirty martini and Kalamata olive bread at Sheehan’s Irish Pub

Mr. Olive Crazy and I went out on the town last night. Since moving to Wrens, Georgia, were I am conducting version 2.0 of my olive variety trials, we hadn’t had a proper “date night.” And, we needed one – badly.

After a day of making farm-related purchases in the nearest “big city,” Augusta, we turned to our trusty mobile restaurant apps to find good food, a comfortable atmosphere, and a tasty martini. After some debate we settled on Sheehan’s Irish Pub at the intersection of Central and Monte Sano Avenues. It was the perfect choice.

We settled into a cozy corner booth, ordered drinks, and food and turned our attention to the college football game playing behind the bar. While I sipped my drink, Tom wiped out the bread the waitress left on the table. Seeing that the bread quickly disappeared, the waitress asked if we’d like some more. I hadn’t had any so I left that decision to Tom. He gave her an enthusiastic – yes, and remarking about its salty, chewy, deliciousness asked what kind of bread it was.

My ears perked up at her response. “Kalamata olive bread,” she said. Now I absolutely had to try the bread.

It was wonderful. The exterior was slightly crunchy without being a tooth-breaker. The inside had a light but chewy texture and the saltiness of the Kalamata olives was perfect.

I tried to find out which bakery made the bread but didn’t have much success. The restaurant orders it through Sysco and the invoice had a code of BrkSimp, which wasn’t helpful. I’m resolved to call Sysco on Monday to find out the bakery name. It’s a start.

After our splendid meal Tom and I went old school and drove through a local car wash featuring disco lights. It seemed fitting since the car wash is across the street from the former location of Stonehenge, a discotheque from the 70s, where a young Tom held up the wall near the dance floor and a young Mary danced her heart out to The Commodores Brick House and the Bee Gees Night Fever.

These days the not-so-young Mary and Tom are content to grow olives, eat Kalamata olive bread, and drive through a disco car wash before returning to the country where soft breezes blow through the silvery leaves of our young olive trees.

May the sun shine through your branches.


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