You don’t see much innovation in the world of olives these days. It’s more or less steady as she goes. Pitted, with pits. Black or green. Stuffed with pimento or cheese. Free range or farm. Year after year. Same old, same old.
First improvement I’d make: Get them rotating. All of them spinning, either on your plate or in mid-air. Simple vibrating olives aren’t enough and the industry knows it.
Next: I’d cube them. And not soft cubes with rounded corners. My cubed olives will be machined to precise tolerances, with sharp edges that hold up under heavy stacking sessions.
Then I’d get scientists to mess with the olive genome so that they don’t scream when you slice them.
Finally I’d broker a lasting peace between olives and those miniature onions Uncles are so fond of.
As you can see, The Olive jar may be packed tight, but there’s still room for imagination. (I just finished ironing that onto a shirt, thank you.)
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