In the past, the coolest way to name-check yourself was to subtly paint your reflection in a random object in a portrait. Glass, metal, even pearls — all were glossy enough to serve as mirrors for the artist. Van Eyck and Velázquez were both cheeky lads in this regard, peeking out at the viewer from within complex scenes. But were they inventive enough to use a black olive to accomplish this snappy trick? I think not!
Fast-forward to 1971, and the heyday of food styling fashion that demanded garnishes take center stage, as if the food being portrayed required bling to make it sing. The humble olive took a star turn as a jaunty bauble, its green and red and black globular presence crowning many an otherwise plain Jane dish. Here, they do yeoman’s work of providing compositional scaffolding to create a classic triangle out of a gloopy pink arrangement, much like a tiara on a drunken prom queen. The broccoli bouquet lays at her feet, confused as to its status as chaperone. But it is the black olive, the jewel in the crown, that winks back at us with the photographer’s light reflector, fairly screaming “we’re professionals here!” like the back of the artist’s easel. Meanwhile, the subject, having sat for hours, begins to sag under the lights. “Just a few more shots!” the photographer cries, but the olives stick their tongues out in protest, and the biscuits emit a whispered sigh.
Crusty Salmon Shortcakes
The Betty Crocker Recipe Card Library, 1971
