After being flattened by flu and every autumn bug imaginable for the last fortnight, I finally managed to get out amongst the olive trees yesterday and get the fruit up the road to the press. Last year the trees produced what could only generously be described as a “light crop”. We got about one olive. Literally one. So in a moment of frustration I marched outside with the back of an axe and gave the trees a stern reminder about what their purpose in life actually was. Apparently they took the feedback well because this year they have exploded three feet into the air and produced the most glorious bumper crop imaginable. Which, apart from making me ridiculously happy, also means we have something wonderful to show guests as they wander the property with us on tours at Vineyard Cottages. Timing however became absolutely critical because the weather was turning against us and the birds were circling like tiny feathery criminals preparing for a full-scale olive robbery.
So yesterday, full of cold medicine and determination, Sarah, our manager, Marieke and I hauled tarpaulins and sheets under the trees and started stripping branches heavy with olives until the fruit came tumbling down onto the canvas below. There is something completely heartening about olive harvest days. Warm autumn sunshine, bright blue skies, golden light through the trees and that beautiful sound of olives hitting the tarpaulins in soft little bursts. Before long the buckets were overflowing and I was off to see Bill and Eileen Spence who still press the olive oil for us. I love that connection so much. The Spences built Vineyard Cottages many years ago and there is something rather lovely about the fact they are still part of the story every olive season.
The oil itself is looking magnificent this year. Rich, vibrant and full of flavour with all those beautiful polyphenols that make olive oil not only delicious but genuinely good for you. A few years before COVID I spent time doing olive oil judging in Northland and learned very quickly that judging olive oil is a bit like judging wine, except somehow even more dramatic because really good olive oil has attitude. The first thing you look for is life. Freshness. Energy. It should smell like crushed olives, cut grass, tomato leaf, herbs and sometimes green apple or artichoke depending on the variety. Then comes the balance; fruitiness, bitterness and pungency. Good olive oil should have that peppery hit right at the back of the throat. Some oils give you a gentle tickle while others make you cough dramatically into your tasting glass as though you’ve inhaled cracked pepper, which olive oil judges weirdly adore.
What you absolutely don’t want are flat, tired or stale oils. Rancid olive oil has this dreadful smell of old nuts and forgotten pantry sadness and once you know it, you can never unknow it. Professional judges taste from little blue glasses so the colour doesn’t influence the judging because despite what Instagram might suggest, bright green does not automatically equal good olive oil. Exceptional olive oil should taste alive. It should make bread taste more like bread, tomatoes more tomatoey and grilled fish and vegetables sing a little louder on the plate.
I will never forget taking a food tour group over to Waiheke Island years ago to meet international olive oil judge Margaret Edwards. She lined up six little blue tasting glasses and asked the group to choose their favourite oil. Nearly everyone picked the same one. I smelt it, tasted it and looked at her in horror. She smiled sweetly and announced to the group that the oil they had all chosen was seven-year-old rancid olive oil she had bought in Australia. The entire room was horrified. But it proved a very important point, most people are used to olive oil that was once fresh and beautiful but has sat around far too long. Moral of the story? Buy olive oil and actually use it.
Because the pressing process here is still beautifully manual, everything takes longer than it would in a large commercial press. I arrived yesterday just in time for the traditional glass of Chardonnay Bill and Eileen have after the first press of the season. And standing there with fresh oil running from the press, tasting this year’s harvest for the first time, I was reminded exactly why we bother. The oil is vibrant and silky with that glorious fiery hit at the back of the throat but absolutely no bitterness. Just pure fruit, sunshine and autumn in a bottle.
This weekend is Mother’s Day and with the haul of mandarins and tamarillos Bill generously sent me home with, they’ll be making their way onto the menu for our High Tea at Vineyard Cottages. And once all that beautiful chaos is complete, Sunday evening’s dinner will be something wonderfully simple, homemade pasta with fresh olive oil, garlic and basil finished with a shower of parmesan. Honestly, I can’t wait!
Leave a comment