It doesn’t seem to matter that there is a transportation strike in Seville, Spain, just a few weeks before Easter. Walking through the streets of this splendid ancient city is awe-inspiring. Strolling past the many basilicas and the huge Gothic cathedral I make a major discovery.
The Macarena is not simply a dance for teenagers, it is Seville’s most revered image, the Virgin of Hope. There is some commotion on the bus ride from the ancient city of Ubeda to the airport in Madrid. Some of those on this trade mission to Seville and the province of Jaen decide it is time for lunch if only .
For the past week, our group of Canadian importers, brokers and distributors have spent mornings tasting olive oil and seeing its step-by-step production in vast, environmentally responsible refineries, labs and factories; places where production can exceed 200,000 kilograms of oil a day. Our tutored tastings involve cobalt blue tasting vessels, so that our analysis is not swayed by colour and only our taste-buds prevail. We then indulge in a traditional, luxurious, three-hour lunch – a habit we are now finding hard to break.
A few of my Canadian colleagues have opened their Swiss Army knives and begun to slice up the produce of the land. Aromatic red and yellow peppers, tomatoes, and cucumbers make a colorful and delectable arrangement on paper plates. They sprinkle salt from a shaker snatched from the hotel breakfast table.
Knives cleaned, they cut a baguette into chunks, and create a .
