Much of the mystery of olive oil production has been solved for us, including the answer to the question "why is good olive oil so expensive?" The answer: harvesting olives is really hard work! But if you've ever tasted fresh extra-virgin olive oil, then you know it is worth the expense if you buy it or the effort if you happen to have an olive grove, which we do now. Of course, having a grove of olive trees is common here. Italy ranks second after Spain for production of olive oil (22% of the global market) and per capita consumption (12.35 kg per person per year). All of our neighbors have groves that range from 10 trees (ours) to 200 or so trees (Letizia and Francesca's next door).
Another mystery of olive oil production is when to harvest the olives. We've heard everything from October to February, but I think the honest answer is whenever you can find the time. If you do it earlier, you have better weather, but you also have more green olives that aren't yet ripe. If you harvest later, you run the risk of harvesting in cold, rainy weather, but you'll have a higher ratio of black, ripe olives. Green olives are not a bad thing for olive oil, but they contain less oil than black olives and that gets into the third mystery of olive oil production: the yield. Apparently, Italians discuss their yield--the ratio of oil to olives--like Americans discuss horsepower in their cars. It's a serious topic that reflects on an individuals self-worth and image. We haven't been privy to any of these conversations, but we have heard men fight over the size of meat in the ragu, so it seems likely that olive oil yield could be an important and sensitive topic.
It took Jim and I about 8 hours to harvest the olives from our 10 trees. That was after spending a few hours with Francesca learning the ropes. The harvest involves spreading nets under the trees and then using small hand rakes to remove the olives from the tree. Once all of the olives are picked, the nets are lifted and the olives are dumped into a crate. Pretty basic, but Francesca had two valuable tools: an oliviera, an electric tool with gyrating prongs on a long handle so that olives can be harvested from hard to reach spots, and an olive cleaning machine that removes the leaves and twigs.
Once we had our olives (10 trees produced 56 kilograms of olives), a co-worker of Jim's made an appointment for us to take the olives to a frantoio, or olive pressing facility. We knew the frantoio had a minimum amount, which we would be under, but we were able to buy olives from them to get the 130 kilograms we needed. The frantoio we went to was Lucchi & Guastalli in Santo Stefano di Magra. When one of the owners discovered that I spoke English, he went and got his partner, who explained the process and served me a cup of coffee. I spent the next two hours at the frantoio watching my olives be weighed, washed, ground up into a peanut butter paste, and then spun through a centrifuge to extract the oil. An entirely automated process. The air was thick with the smell of olive oil and the warehouse buzzed with the fervor of harvest. Men stood in groups discussing their crops. One would break away when his oil began to emerge. He would watch with great intent, occasionally sticking a finger in the flow to take a quick approving taste.
When it was my turn, I watched with pride as my 25-liter stainless container was filled to the rim. The attendant did a quick calculation and handed me a piece of scrap paper with my yield (17.6 percent, an extremely high yield that I contribute to dumb luck) and my bill (150 euros for 80 kg of olives and the pressing fee). The final cost is 6 euros a liter (about $8) of the most delicious and certainly the freshest olive oil I have ever tasted. A fantastic deal, particularly when you factor in this truly Italian experience.
Much of the mystery of olive oil production has been solved for us, including the answer to the question "why is good olive oil so expensive?" The answer: harvesting olives is really hard work! But if you've ever tasted fresh extra-virgin olive oil, then you know it is worth the expense if you buy it or the effort if you happen to have an olive grove, which we do now. Of course, having a grove of olive trees is common here. Italy ranks second after Spain for production of olive oil (22% of the global market) and per capita consumption (12.35 kg per person per year). All of our neighbors have groves that range from 10 trees (ours) to 200 or so trees (Letizia and Francesca's next door).
Another mystery of olive oil production is when to harvest the olives. We've heard everything from October to February, but I think the honest answer is whenever you can find the time. If you do it earlier, you have better weather, but you also have more green olives that aren't yet ripe. If you harvest later, you run the risk of harvesting in cold, rainy weather, but you'll have a higher ratio of black, ripe olives. Green olives are not a bad thing for olive oil, but they contain less oil than black olives and that gets into the third mystery of olive oil production: the yield. Apparently, Italians discuss their yield--the ratio of oil to olives--like Americans discuss horsepower in their cars. It's a serious topic that reflects on an individuals self-worth and image. We haven't been privy to any of these conversations, but we have heard men fight over the size of meat in the ragu, so it seems likely that olive oil yield could be an important and sensitive topic.
It took Jim and I about 8 hours to harvest the olives from our 10 trees. That was after spending a few hours with Francesca learning the ropes. The harvest involves spreading nets under the trees and then using small hand rakes to remove the olives from the tree. Once all of the olives are picked, the nets are lifted and the olives are dumped into a crate. Pretty basic, but Francesca had two valuable tools: an oliviera, an electric tool with gyrating prongs on a long handle so that olives can be harvested from hard to reach spots, and an olive cleaning machine that removes the leaves and twigs. 
Once we had our olives (10 trees produced 56 kilograms of olives), a co-worker of Jim's made an appointment for us to take the olives to a frantoio, or olive pressing facility. We knew the frantoio had a minimum amount, which we would be under, but we were able to buy olives from them to get the 130 kilograms we needed. The frantoio we went to was Lucchi & Guastalli in Santo Stefano di Magra. When one of the owners discovered that I spoke English, he went and got his partner, who explained the process and served me a cup of coffee. I spent the next two hours at the frantoio watching my olives be weighed, washed, ground up into a peanut butter paste, and then spun through a centrifuge to extract the oil. An entirely automated process. The air was thick with the smell of olive oil and the warehouse buzzed with the fervor of harvest. Men stood in groups discussing their crops. One would break away when his oil began to emerge. He would watch with great intent, occasionally sticking a finger in the flow to take a quick approving taste.
When it was my turn, I watched with pride as my 25-liter stainless container was filled to the rim. The attendant did a quick calculation and handed me a piece of scrap paper with my yield (17.6 percent, an extremely high yield that I contribute to dumb luck) and my bill (150 euros for 80 kg of olives and the pressing fee). The final cost is 6 euros a liter (about $8) of the most delicious and certainly the freshest olive oil I have ever tasted. A fantastic deal, particularly when you factor in this truly Italian experience.
Wow, really enjoyed this post! So interesting to learn about the harvest/oil press process. So assume your oil is "first, cold-pressed, extra virgin olive oil" that we see on bottle labels?
ReplyDeleteI've heard the Italians keep their best olive oil in Italy, so now you probably know why/what it's like. Does it taste significantly different than bottled oils you've had in the U.S.
Cool! Grazie!
Hi Jill. It does taste different, although I have to admit that I didn't splurge on olive oil in the states. To my palatte, the main difference is how "fruity" our oil tastes. I'm not sure if that will mellow over time or not.
ReplyDeleteI'm amazed at how much olive oil we consume here. And our butter consumption is way down!
Ciao,
-Lisa
Very enjoyable and interesting reading Lisa. It's neat to see the social and domestic aspects of making olive oil can be in Italy.
ReplyDeleteSend some of that olive oil to ME! I would love to drizzle that on my pizza dough before topping it. And then drizzle some more on top of the toppings! And then I will share it with you. Oh! I'm here and you're there. Oops! Well, you could read about it on my Coop de Kitchen blog. All kinds of pictures there of food, cooking, and chickens there.
ReplyDelete