Oliviera

I really didn't know how to connect with France when I found out we were going. I could speak bits and pieces of the language from my studies in high school and knew that their wine is exquisite. Their food isn't exactly my style - heavy and more complex compared to my simple Italian - so this frightened me a little.

But, alas, there I was in Borders at Newark Airport searching the travel section for a French travel book 30 minutes before boarding the plane to Paris with the final destination being Nice.

I thumbed to the section on the French Riviera and started reading away remembering (and becoming excited at the thought of) how close we would be to northern Italy. "Ah yes, perhaps I'll find something to eat," I thought.

Then it was there: Oliviera. I read the short description of this little olive-oil-centric restaurant on rue du Collet over and over again. I had to go there. This would be the restaurant that would change my mind about French cuisine forever!

Now, I don't know how well you know me, but, when I get an idea in my head I'm going to make it happen. One way or another, it will happen. Sometimes the reality turns out as a disappointment, but for the most part it turns out to be just as wonderful, if not more amazing, as how I had imagined it. So we set out to find Oliviera.

In an old city as twisty and turny as a dream I became doubtful that we would even find the establishment let alone secure a table. Our short vacation was quickly dwindling to an end but it was imperative, come hell or high water, that we dine there.

Joe and I wandered the streets of Old Nice following a silly children's map. We got off the bus and began to carefully navigate each step as though we were following secret directions to pirates booty. Well, olive oil may not be treasure to some, but to me, it is liquid gold.

And there it was! The end of the rainbow and the commencement of an intense love affair with French olive oil.

Nadim, the owner, welcomed us as though we were old friends that join him nightly for dinner. He poured us each a glass of Coteaux d'Aix while explaining how he chooses the many varieties of oils and local ingredients. I was all eyes, ears and tastebuds for the next 3 hours.

This story could go on for days if I were to describe the intensity of each dish... however, this is a blog so I will leave you one final thought: I would swim the Atlantic and walk across France just to spend another evening at Nadim's Oliviera.






Pictures: Carte du 30 Juillet 2009 (Menu for July 30, 2009); Myself and owner of Oliviera, Nadime