cosmetic scientists. And today, using their techniques, olive factories in Spain are churning out tins of them in their hundreds of thousands. I made my acquaintance with them one day when I was faced with a choice between an expensive jar of bottled olives, and this modestly priced, handsome-looking can, with the apparent bonus that the olives had been pitted. I opened the can and found with some surprise that they did not taste of olives. Amazing. I drained them, drenched them in good olive oil (what a waste), and served them on a plate without comment. And, without comment, they were tasted and ignored. Can you imagine a bowl of juicy purple Kalamata olives being left untouched? If you like the taste of black olives you wouldn't buy these, so why is there a market for them? Well, as a garnish. Even before the idea of the Mediterranean Diet, Americans sliced them onto millions of pizzas consumed every year. In salads too, night-black olives set off the green of salad leaves, the red of a slashed tomato. They don't have any taste, agrees expert Anne Dolomore, author of several books on olives and olive oil. But she doubts if it's a scam any more than many food industry practices. Yes, she says, it is a charlatan, a green olive which has been "dyed" black. How do they do that? Interesting. The green olive, as you will know if you've ever picked one off a tree, is supremely unpalatable. Yet