- Green olives
- Black olives
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Some black Olives are dyed!
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Kalamata olives or die!
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Didn’t know olives other than green and black existed… cause that’s the one I’ve eaten. Sorry should have done more research. 
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I used to buy these expensive green olives that had an almond inside instead of a pit.
They were great.
Olives are disgusting and need to be destroyed.
3 Likes
Yeah I agree, Kalamata olives are where it’s at!
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On Greek salad with some feta?
Oh lord,
So good.
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Blue cheese stuffed green olives. Expensive but worth it.
Not a fan, I tolerate them in small quantities like on a pizza, but I never prepare them myself
I prefer black olives.
Olive trigger dreams in me. Dont know why though.
Olive oil is said to enhance sleep, maybe that’s the connection.
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I prefer green olives…love calamata too…black are ok on mexican food and pizza.
Neither…yuck 1515151515
In ancient groves where secrets lie,
The tale of olives, oh, how they vie!
From branches stout, they first awoke,
Their destiny sealed, a tragic stroke.
Black olives, born in darkness’ might,
Mysterious fruits, the shadow’s delight.
In ebony hue, their spirits bound,
An enigma profound, profound.
Green olives, bathed in vibrant light,
Bursting with life, a verdant sight.
With emerald grace, they danced on trees,
Beneath the sun, a jubilant breeze.
But envy’s seed sprouted deep within,
A rivalry festered, a tale of sin.
Black olives coveted the green’s glow,
Resentment bred in their hearts’ shadow.
Whispers of bitterness, carried on the wind,
As black olives conspired, their darkened minds pinned.
To steal the green’s luster, to extinguish its shine,
A battle ignited, a contest entwined.
The heavens trembled as the war unfurled,
Black and green clashed, an epic swirl.
Pitted against each other, two sides at strife,
A battle that threatened all olives’ life.
Black olives struck with venomous might,
Their inky hue eclipsing the light.
Sowing darkness, they left a trail of despair,
Devouring green hopes with merciless flair.
Yet, the greens fought back with vigor and zeal,
Their chlorophyll hearts refusing to kneel.
They formed a wall, a fortress so stout,
To protect their brethren, to banish the doubt.
But tragedy loomed, relentless and grim,
As brother fought brother, the light growing dim.
The groves turned into a battlefield’s face,
A sorrowful testament, a tragic embrace.
Amidst the chaos, their voices cried,
The olives united, no longer denied.
“We are kin,” they proclaimed in anguish and woe,
“Let peace reclaim us, together we’ll grow.”
But the wounds ran deep, too deep to mend,
The olive’s unity, a vision condemned.
In the end, both sides suffered and bled,
Their rivalry forgotten, too late to be shed.
Now, in solemn silence, the groves remain,
A haunting reminder of the olives’ pain.
Black olives and greens, forever entwined,
Their tragic battle, etched in the mind.
Oh, let this tale be a cautionary plea,
For unity’s strength, let us all see.
Lest envy and division consume our days,
And turn the brightest of lights into darkest haze.
Only the oil. Extra virgin cold pressed.
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