Andar per Olio
Dateline: 09/03/99
In Italy this will be remembered, by many, as the summer They Got It Wrong: In
May the weather people all made dire predictions of record temperatures and
tropical heat waves that for the most part failed to materialize. It did get
hot in August, but then again it's supposed to, and even when things were at
their worst elsewhere it rained in the north. Hard enough to wash away
campgrounds and cause landslides. And even though we've barely crossed into
September it's already getting nippy in the evenings. Soon, if you take a drive
in the Tuscan countryside, you'll see people spreading parachutes around the
olive trees and climbing up into them to strip away the ripe olives with gloved
hands -- further south they also knock the olives loose with long sticks, but
then again the trees are much larger, too big to make hand-stripping practical.
The parachutes make it much easier to retrieve the olives that slip to the
ground.
What happens next? The olives are carted off to the frantoio, or olive press, to make oil, Athena's great gift to humanity. Actually the word "press" is something of a misnomer -- the procedure is more complex. To begin with the olives are washed, then, if the press is traditional, they're ground in a stone trough, using upright stone wheels that were once turned by oxen and are now mechanized.
In days of old the pulp then went into rush-mat sacks that were stacked and pressed. What came out was an oil-and-water slurry that went into a tank to separate; the first oil was the best and usually went to the landlord, who used it at table. The farmers, on the other hand, used some of their oil at table, and the rest around the farm, to keep lamps lit and whatnot.
One of the major problems with the traditional pressing technique is its slowness: Oil is extremely perishable, and by the time it finishes separating in a traditional tank it has also begun to oxidize (this is why the landlord skimmed away the first oil, and why the farmers used much of their oil for light rather than as a condiment).
To get around this problem most modern presses use centrifuges to
separate the oil from the water, and isolate the oil from the air as much as
possible. There have also been advances in milling, and many presses now have
continuous feed mechanical crushers. But it's still a wonderful treat to see a
traditional stone wheel press rumble its way through the olive paste.
One extremely important thing about this whole procedure: It's done at room temperature. The olives are never heated, nor is the paste, and the paste is simply squeezed. No chemical treatments of any kind. Otherwise the oil won't be virgin or extravirgin, the two best grades. Non-virgin olive oil is either too acidic to be virgin, or is pressed from pulp that has been processed one way or another, and there is a significant difference in flavor. Italians generally cook with virgin oil, and use extravirgin raw, in salads, drizzled into hearty soups, and wherever the flavor of the oil complements the dish. Non-virgin oils are acceptable for cooking, but you won't want to use one to dress your salad.
ABOUT EXTRA VIRGIN OIL:
The prince of Italian extra virgin olive oils has long been considered either Ligurian or Tuscan -- the Ligurian, especially that made from Taggiasca olives, is more delicate, while the Tuscan often has a marked peppery tang that can be quite addictive. Umbrian oils are also nice, as are those made on the southern banks of Lake Garda. South Italian extra virgin oils, by contrast, tend to be heavier and more oily tasting -- fine for cooking with, but not necessarily what you want to put on your salad or drizzle over your minestrone. The problem is temperature, I heard at an olive oil conference last year -- it's too hot in the south, when the olives ripen, and the temperatures that the picked olives are subjected to during storage and pressing result in heavy-tasting oils. This was until recently; South Italian producers have begun to experiment with refrigeration and their oils are improving dramatically -- they're not yet to the level of the best Tuscan and Ligurian, but they're getting there. This bodes well for the consumer because southern olive trees are several times the size of their northern counterparts, and with high yields the producers will be able to make good oils at low prices.
There is a problem with this happy picture, however: Honest producers are being undercut through crafty use of an EEC food production loophole, according to which an olive oil imported from outside the EEC (North Africa, for example) can be sold as EEC oil if it's cut with locally produced oil following its importation. All the unscrupulous farmer has to do is buy cheap foreign oil for a hundred lire per liter, filter it, blend in some local oil, and voilá -- locally produced extra virgin oil! It's not going to be as good as what really is local, of course, but how's the consumer to distinguish between two bottles from the same town without buying both and tasting them? Those who get burned will look elsewhere.
Alas, this gambit is not limited to Southern Italy; in November truckloads of oil from elsewhere are driven into Tuscan estates to emerge as Olio Extra Vergine Imbottigliato Nella Tenuta (Extra Virgin Estate-Bottled Olive Oil). For that matter, the same trick is probably also used in Spain and Greece.
How to defend yourself? In general, the better oils come in glass bottles, and their labels will say where and when they were pressed. Be careful about oils that simply say “estate bottled,” because of the problem mentioned above. Don’t worry if the oil is opaque, because it often is, nor should a bit of sediment upset you. Be wary, on the other hand, of overly green oil – that green could be from the olives, or it could be from leaves that got pressed with them. Also, be wary of an oil that is either extremely light colored, or far into the yellow (towards gold). The former could be tasteless, while the latter is almost certainly old.
These guidelines of course apply to all extra virgin oils, not just those made in Italy. If you live in the United States, I have heard good things about Californian olive oils, though I have never tasted one.
What to do with olive oil, other than dress a salad? The simplest thing is bruschetta: You will need day-old Italian bread (Tuscan-style would be best). Toast it, ideally over the coals, rub it with a peeled slice of garlic, then drizzle it with oil, season with salt, and serve. Four slices will serve four, and you'll have your guests asking for more.
Got more sites / recipes to suggest? Let me know!
Buon Appetito!
Kyle Phillips
Photos mine.