You get up early on Sunday morning and put on a pair of linen pants and a dark blue t-shirt.
You hop in the car and head to the local Schwankola Organic Grocery, where there are dozens of things you've never heard of and some things you're a bit scared of.
You load up the cart with magenta peaches larger than your two fists, monster fruit, apples from New Zealand, raspberries, sesame sticks, coffee, little miniature baguettes, stinky cheeses from the four corners of the earth, some Danish butter you love, and a flaxseed cereal that looks like sawdust but tastes like Heaven.
Then you head past the small island where olives and capers and pickled goods of every sort are kept. You pause briefly, admiring the colors of the vegetables.
A man with a heavy Italian accent and the unlikely name of Henry spots you. He offers you various olives to taste, and a debate starts about the relative merits of dry-salt and brined curing. You walk away with a half-pound of tiny, wrinkled, intensely-flavored black olives and a mouthful of pits from your samples.
What do you do with the pits???