| Questions and Answers about Olive Oil |
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| Food & Drink |
| Written by Steve Sarsfield |
| Monday, 09 February 2009 22:34 |
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Once people find out I am an olive oil producer, I get asked a lot of questions. When I decided to raise olives for oil, I did a lot of research. Luckily for you I found out quite a lot. So here is Olive Oil 101, so that you can ponder the significance of this gift and perhaps enjoy a bottle. Olive Oil was originally burned in lamps; remember the vestal virgins? The Genie, by the way, comes out of a sesame seed oil lamp, which was not much different. Salads were not in vogue yet and folks did most of their cooking with animal fat. The olives fell to the ground; somebody scooped up the goo and lit it on fire. Centuries of after-sunset frolicking ensued. In those days, olives were gathered up and put in a big pile on a flat rock. The oozing oil was saved in jugs, rancid, but burnable. Then along came electricity. What to do with millions of olive trees in the Mediterranean? In what became one of the world’s greatest marketing ideas, olive oil became not only the stuff of history, but it was good for you. Hence that oil bottle on the table of your local bistro. So how did that bottle get there and why now? The Franciscan missionaries brought olives to the New World along with . . . well let’s not get into that. The California climate was perfect and the pitted olive was a success. All olive oil however, was imported from southern Europe and northern Africa. Until recently! You and I are a part of a resurgence in the gastronomic and health benefits of locally grown and produced oil. Now for the questions you’ve been dying to ask. Is oil made from green or black olives? All olives start out green, then turn black as they mature and then fall on the sidewalk and make a mess. We all remember pushing pitted black olives on our fingers as children. (There are groups for people who were denied this pleasure.) Not that long ago, only green olives stuffed with pimentos (by very bored Spanish workers) were available in the store. Those garlic-filled green ones your brother-in-law keeps wanting you to try, along with the ones that hold up the toothpick in your Martini are picked before they turn black. The ones still on the tree begin changing color and start softening. Picked very gently, they are processed, canned and end their life on your taco or at the salad bar. Can you eat raw olives? No. You will regret biting a raw olive. It’s acidic and will burn your mouth and make you want to drink a cold beer. Or anything! Green and black table olives have been treated with lye and/or salt, and then pickled for your eating enjoyment. In oil processing, the watery part, where the acid is, is separated from the oil. Neat, huh? Are all olives the same? Are there different kinds of olives? Most “table” olives are of the same variety the Franciscans brought: Mission or Manzanillos, which are a self-pollinating variety with large fruit. There are many other varieties or cultivars of the olive plant. One group making some success is the “Tuscan” varietals. This is more than just a fancy name for a marketing scheme. Tuscan varietals, so named for their association with an Italian region, deliver luscious flavor and more oil per pound than their big fruit cousins. Orchards or groves can be planted with different Tuscan varieties for flavor enhancement. The different varieties ripen at different rates. At picking time some of the olives are still green, giving the oil its pungency and keeping qualities, and some are black, giving the oil its sweet and buttery olive flavor. How long before you get olives from a new tree? Are olive trees big? Olive trees are propagated from cuttings of a branch of a mature tree. When given the right circumstances, like air, sun, water and fertilizer, they grow like weeds. In about four to six years clusters of the little buggers are everywhere. Yes, olive trees can get to be thirty feet wide and just as tall, even bigger. Whew, hell to pick, though! Modern practices are to plant at a higher density and prune for ease of picking. Some orchards are “manicured” for the use of automatic industrialized picking machines. How do you make the oil? Did I mention the picking? The little guys just can’t be trained to jump in the bucket, darn! Expensive hand picking onto tarps is the usual practice. Some use is made of mechanical “rakes” to comb the branches. We cover our thumb and forefinger with some duct tape. It makes us feel rustic and prevents blisters from the coarse branches and pull down the branch like milking a cow, making ‘rain on the roof’ noises on the plastic tarp below. Repeat. At the olive oil plant, the leaves and small stems are gently vacuumed away. Then the olives are sprayed with water, shaken dry and dumped into the crusher. This is a large ‘bowl’, about six feet across, with a stone bottom and two giant, round stones, rolling around making a mess of everything. That’s right, crushing everything, pits and all, rolling around until it’s . . . well, a mess. Then the mess gets poured into the centrifuge. It’s a mechanism that squeezes the solids out, separates out the watery part and leaves the oil to pour into a waiting stainless steel container. Well at least that’s what you hope happens to your oil. It can also be heated; or infused with petroleum distillate to increase the yield, yuk! Why does it taste different from my mother’s olive oil? Here’s the hard part. Once it’s packed up in a cute bottle with an attractive label and a big price, you really don’t know what’s inside; despite whatever wording is used. U. S. Government labeling regulations on olive oil are deplorable. Just about anything sold in America can be virgin or cold pressed olive oil. Anything. Your government has got better things to do than pissing off a bunch of European oil merchants with strict labeling regulations: like which country the oil actually comes from and how much of it ever came from an olive. Details. Just fry it up with some onions and garlic, who’s to know. I like and use the term “fresh green” olive oil. Pressed from fresh picked, stone-ground, olives. Period. Green, because it still retains the chlorophyll that nature put there. Flavor? I’m glad you asked. Pour some into a saucer. The squeamish can dip a pinky, or a small piece of bread. While the more adventurous . . . just take a sip! What does it taste like? A tanker from Tunisia? Rancid? Bland? Pungent? Olives? Fresh green olive oil has a sweet, olive initial taste. It is not greasy. It leaves a pungent, peppery aroma in the mouth. It is not bland. Fresh green olive oil’s abundant flavor allows it to stand alone as a sauce on many foods. How do you like to use it? The aforementioned bread dipping is a popular way to enjoy fresh green olive oil and is a useful way to introduce it to friends, with a good beer or wine. Straight up on top of fried or scrambled eggs is an old favorite. Lavished on steamed veggies or pasta with salt and pepper; it is an exquisite delight. Mix with minced fresh herbs as a marinade for veggies headed for the barbeque. Of course, it’s most at home as the basis for salad dressing. Try this: rub a wood salad bowl with garlic, add chopped tomatoes, cucumber, and green onion. Pour in a quarter cup of oil, a tablespoon of good vinegar and sprinkle generously with salt and pepper. Toss, wait, repeat. Dump in the cleaned, dry lettuce. Toss and serve. Add good bread and a loved one and it’ll almost be like heaven. So now you’re informed and curious and hungry. Look for something different than your usual purchase. Try single producer oil from California Don’t always pay for the most expensive brands. If you really like it, it must be the best. |
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