Tim was telling me today about the olives that his grandmother called ‘Golimbadez’. They were massive, meaty olives, that she would spend hours preparing,and months brining, replacing the salty water regularly, to remove bitterness. Tim, as a little kid, would sit for hours slitting them as his Gran wanted.
I’ve tried to look them up on the intertubes, but not found anything. If you have any idea whether the spelling is wrong, let us know. His grandmother used to do this in Karalanalou, Northern Cyprus.
Talking about preparing the olives today, as a kid, unleashed many other memories. Tim recalled how he used to go to his Grandmother’s work in Limassol, on the other side of Cyprus – in an ice cream factory. What bliss for a child of 4! He was allowed to dip the ice creams into the molten chocolate, to keep him amused while his gran was working. It all sounds a bit Charlie and The Chocolate Factory to me. And later, he would help his grandmother make pastirma sausages – a kind of air dried beef.
These types of olive were the largest, and the most prized ones. It was all a bit secretive about their location, as there would not be many of them of this size.