Olive oil

Joel is my olive dealer. His stand during the marché is the source of all kinds of olives: black, green, garlic, fennel, provincial, green and black olive tapanade, boiled garlic. He has a line of perfume made with flowers picked in Argelès and Collioure and named after the town. He's a terrible flirt. He wears a T shirt saying "Olive King." His last girlfriend, who helped him on the stand, wore one saying "Slave of the Olive King."

Now he is selling his own line of olive made from his own olives and packaged in a lovely bottle. Is it any wonder, that the idea of shopping in a supermarket is so unappealing when you can have such a personal relationship with your food, its producers and its sellers.