He sat there alone at the table for two, sipping his pre-prandial cocktail and wondering what sweet vermouth was doing in something called ‘the Dublin’ – and mixed with Irish whiskey at that! Vermouth belonged in ‘the Turin’ or, if one wanted to be fancy, ‘the Torino’, although the interloper would then be the whiskey. It just made no sense. Then again, James Joyce – James Augustine Aloysius Joyce, to be precise – wrote much of Dubliners, not to mention Giacomo Joyce, in Trieste, later part of Italy. Hmmm. Beware preconceptions, he chided himself.

Vermouth. Wermut. Wormwood. Good for digestion, if it didn’t kill you, he thought.

‘May I sit down?’

He looked up to see standing there with her ‘Dublin’ a female delegate from what must have been Ethiopia, given her unmistakeable physiognomy. He didn’t know quite what to say. The request was one to which he was not used.

‘By … by all means. Yes. Of course.’

‘I was just wondering what the olive was doing in a drink called “the Dublin”. Kind of odd, don’t you think?’

He had not, come to think of it, thought. About it, that was. He was annoyed at himself for the oversight.

‘Yes’, she continued, ‘I can picture an olive in, say, a martini. But in a “Dublin”? Hmmm.’

‘“Hmmm” indeed. A rum business.’

She beamed.

‘Oh, you Brits are so witty, so clever with words!’

‘Thank you for the compliment. But I’m Australian. Beware preconceptions.’

‘Oh, that’s a pity, because I was going to ask you to tell me about the inner workings of the Olive Oil Council.’

‘The what?’

This unexpected woman was beginning to make him feel silly. It was a feeling to which he was not used. It was unwontedly … amusing.

‘The Olive Oil Council, established pursuant to Chapter VIII of the International Agreement on Olive Oil. The Agreement was adopted in 1955 at the first session of the United Nations Conference on Olive Oil, is dated 1956, was amended by a Protocol of 1958, and came into force this year, when they set up the Olive Oil Council in Madrid. The United Kingdom is a founding member.’

‘Really? Why?’

‘Good question! Well, according to Article 1, participation in the Agreement is open – and I quote – “to the Governments of all countries which consider themselves interested in the production or consumption of olive oil”. These “Contracting Governments” are divided into two groups, namely those of “mainly producing countries” and those of “mainly importing countries”. The UK is a “mainly importing country”.’

He spluttered and nearly choked on his olive. To think of the Poms using olive oil!

‘I doubt that very much. I would hazard a guess that the UK is party to said Agreement on account of exports of olive oil from British Cyprus’, he said. ‘It’s unlikely Cyprus will be granted independence before next year, given what still needs to be done pursuant to the London and Zurich Agreements of February this year. It may also be partly on account of exports from the Crown Colony of Malta.’

‘Actually, the UK is officially designated a “mainly importing country”.’

‘Oh … er … right. But be that as it may. What is your interest in the Olive Oil Council and, for that matter, in the International Agreement on Olive Oil?’

‘Intellectual or national?’

He had no idea that olive oil was produced in Ethiopia.

‘Er … both, I suppose.’

‘Well, I have an intellectual interest in international commodity bodies and international commodity agreements. They are fascinating examples of progress through international cooperation. Did you know that, apart from our oleaginous pairing, there is an International Wheat Council and an International Wheat Agreement, as well as an International Sugar Council and an International Sugar Agreement?’

‘Er … vaguely.’

He was beginning to sweat.

‘I hear they are planning equivalents for coffee.’

‘I’ll take your word for it. And the national interest?’

‘We make olive oil, of course!’

Of course. He had to ask.

‘Where do they grow olives in Ethiopia?’

‘Ethiopia? I’m Israeli! Beta Israel. An Ethiopian Jew. What people call “Falasha”, although to us the term is pejorative. Granted, few of us have yet performed Aliyah. But beware preconceptions.’

Indeed, he smiled to himself, before downing the rest of his ‘Dublin’, olive and all.

Roger O’Keefe