Or you can get that pita with Shawarma, though not of the rotating-hunk-of-lamb variety. Rather, you get tender seasoned chicken, with a really terrific thin, sour, yogurty garlic sauce, pickles, lettuce, and tomatoes. Sandwiches come with nicely seasoned fries, cooked with the same restraint as the hash browns.
With the fish taco you get a huge pile of coleslaw, yellow-tinged and bitter in the way of freshly chopped cabbage, offset by sweet bits of carrot. The taco itself, a point of continuity with the old One Eyed Jack's that was in this space, was well seasoned and Cajun-warm, though the fish was a hair overcooked. We wished there had been more of the greenish creamy sauce.
What you don't find much of on the menu at Olive is olives. I think they are included on one of the salads, and you could probably get them to toss a few on the pizzas they also serve. It's probably for the best. Mediterranean cuisine is seductive enough without tempting us with nature's perfect food — sharp, salty, earthy, with textures that constantly surprise. If Olive had olives then this town's greasy spoons would really have something to worry about.
Brian Duff can be reached at bduff@une.edu.
