In 1986, the author bought a small overgrown olive farm in Provence. With it, he discovered, were 150 neglected olive trees. His neighbours helped him bring his grove back to life - and with it a passion grew in him to discover all there was to know about the olive.
I love olives. I often crave them. Green, black, in-between; jumbo, teeny-tiny and middle-sized. They're bursts of flavor in my mouth, with a long remembered taste. I love olive oil too, that clean slick feel in my mouth and flavors that are as various as the bottles. It's no wonder that I enjoyed reading Mort Rosenblum's Olives, The Life and Lore of a Noble Fruit. It's both a travel narrative and a culinary narrative as Rosenblum seeks out ancient groves of trees and historic presses in France, Italy and Morocco. He doesn't slight the California olive either. The new energy surrounding the fruit in Northern California is such a pleasure, more so because Corning, California is such a short trip from Ashland, Oregon. We've got olive groves here in Southern Oregon now too with extra virgin, cold press oil now in the local markets.
One of the many aspects of Rosenblum's work that I really appreciated was the international olive oil economy and the politics of terroir. Thanks to Olives, The Life and Lore of a Noble Fruit, I'm a much better informed olive and olive oil consumer in all meanings of the word.
A must-read for all olive lovers. I'm sure many will compare this to Carol Drinkwater's series of books on the same subject, as both begin with the author buying an abandoned farmhouse in Provence surrounded by long-neglected olive groves. However, Mr Rosenblum's book is less anecdotal and more informative. It charts the history, folklore and traditions surrounding the olive, as well as describing the modern day realities of olive farming , the olive oil business and international politics involved - including the mafia and the conflicts in Palestine and Bosnia.
It was interesting and well researched but really bounced all over the place with little rhyme or reason. The majority of the book is about olive oils and methods of pressing oils, with very little time given to the actual fruit itself. Written in the first person, at many times I'd find myself getting annoyed with the author who was clearly overly impressed with people with old money or "breeding," effusing over their looks and class, while more homely and lower class growers rarely received a flattering description. Has it made me more interested in trying different olive oils and in seeking out new varieties from other countries? Yes. Did I learn things I didn't know. Definitely. Just seems like it could have been a better organized book. It would also benefit from an appendix linking to many of the reference books he used and sources for purchasing the many oils he discusses.
Yum! I love olives. Our house is full of olive monsters. I have photos of beautiful old olive trees in Greece and memories of delicious olives, oil and products from grand-mames village in France. The history of olives is ancient, full of rich tradition and symbolism. This is a wonderful blend of all those things and personal experience.
_Olives_ by Mort Rosenblum is a well-written, witty, and engaging book on all things olive, thorough in its coverage. Rosenblum became an olive aficionado after acquiring five acres of land in the Provence region of France, site of an abandoned farmhouse and two hundred half-dead and heavily overgrown century-plus olive trees, long neglected. From that point on he became not only committed to bringing his trees back to life but on becoming an expert on olives in general, traveling throughout France, Israel, Palestine, Spain, Italy, Tunisia, Morocco, Greece, the former Yugoslavia, California, and Mexico to speak to olive growers, those who press olives for their oil, government regulators, those involved in marketing table olives and olive oil, chefs, and nutritional experts. Though not a cookbook, _Olives_ even includes cooking, buying, and storage tips as well as recipes for such fare as eliopitta (a Cypriot olive bread) and imam bayaldi (the name meaning "the imam fainted," supposedly reference to a long-ago reaction to this eggplant and olive oil dish).
The origins of the domestication of _Olea europaea_ are lost in the mists of prehistory. The olive, a close relation to the lilac and jasmine, was maintained in groves in Asia Minor as early as 6000 B.C. Greeks, Phoenicians, and Romans spread olives to Sicily, the Italian mainland, France, Spain, and North Africa. Spanish missionaries in the 1500s brought the olive to California and Mexico. Today there are 800 million olive trees in the world. Though found on six continents, 90% of them are found in the Mediterranean (Spain has the most).
Olives have long been an important fixture in Mediterranean history and religion. Golden carvings of olives decorated ancient Egyptian tombs. Greeks used so much olive oil to lubricate their athletes that they invented a curved blade, the strigil, to scrape it off. Saul, the first king of Israel, was crowned by rubbing oil into his forehead. In Hebrew, the root word for "messiah" comes from "unguent," meaning that the messiah when he arrives will be slathered in oil. The fuel referred to in the miracle of Hanukkah was olive oil. The Old and New Testaments refer to olive oil 140 times and the olive tree 100 times. The Romans had a separate stock market and merchant marine dedicated just to oil.
Rosenblum vividly showed that olive oil is a nuanced as wine. There are seven hundred cultivated varieties, or cultivars, with some grown for pressing, others for eating, ranging from cailletiers (favored in salade nicoise) to malissi (the standard tree of the West Bank) to the hardy, wilder Moroccan picholine to the famous Greek Kalamata. Oils vary a lot in taste, from syrupy yellow oils of southern Italy to thin green Tuscan oils with a peppery after bite to the spicy and light oil of the Siurana region of Spain. Acidity and taste vary due to local cultivators, the weather that year, the presence or absence of pests, when the olives are harvested, and how long they sit around before pressing (as fermentation drives up acidity).
There are regional differences in harvesting olives. In Israel, Palestine, and France, they "milk" trees, the pickers using their fingers and dropping olives into a basket or a net under the tree. "Whackers" - prevalent in Spain, Italy, and Greece - use sticks to hit the branches to dislodge olives, faster and not requiring ladders, but tougher on the trees.
The actual process of pressing olives is extremely well-covered, Rosenblum vividly describing the one favored in most olive-growing countries, the modern continuous system (which uses linked centrifuges to grind up pulp), often highly automated, and the traditional method of using a tower press, which is a very interesting device (though labor-intensive and on the decline outside of niche markets). There are considerable debates in the industry over exact methods, particularly on the use of water and its temperature.
Olives are big business; an industry producing about $10 billion a year as the world consumes nearly 2 million metric tons of olive oil each year. In some areas consumption is quite high; the average per capita consumption annually in Greece is five gallons of oil. Though Spain produces 37% of the world's oil compared to Italy's 19 % and Greece's 17%, it only has a 16% share of the American market (compared to Italy's 70% and Greece's 3%). Ten brands dominate the American domesticate market; most labels are small, sold only regionally or instead growers sell their olives to Italy to produced blended oils for export as a "Product of Italy" despite being grown perhaps in Tunisia, Greece, or Turkey. Rosenblum investigated the corruption that existed in the industry, from waning Mafia influence in Italy to adulterating olive oil with seed oil to cheating in some areas to gain EU agricultural subsidies.
Sales in olive oil have grown a great deal, particularly in the United States, thanks to a growing consensus on its healthfulness. Monounsaturated, olive oil drives out bad cholesterol without reducing the good. Rich in antioxidants, it has been shown to reduce the risk of breast cancer.
The author provided some valuable education to the consumer about oils. Extra-virgin for instance means that the amount of free fatty acids - mostly oleic acid - is below 1 percent, with the organoleptic properties (aroma, taste, and body) rating high. Virgin oil, rarely found for sale, has up to 2 percent acidity. Both are produced by "first-press" or "cold-press" methods. Plain olive oil, (or "pure"), is refined inferior oil used mainly for frying, treated with steam and chemicals and mixed with some better oil for a little flavor and aroma. Pomace oil comes from the first-press leavings, refined to bring it below the 3.5 percent acidity level that designates lamp oil, though often pomace is instead used to make soap (the oil for soap may have 40% acidity). "Lite" oil has the same number of calories (125 per tablespoon), simply being a refined olive oil with less extra virgin added, a clearer color, cheaper to make, and inferior.
What I learned from this book: that most of the olive oil industry is corrupt, that the most corrupt are the Italians who import olive oil world wide and export it at Italian olive oil, that most commercial oil is treated with chemicals (except for Coleveta). This book is a travelogue voyage where the author travels the Mediterranean scouting out olive growers and oil producers. Quite facinating especially if you are a foodie. You will probably never use something called pure olive oil again after reading this.
Provence. Andalucia. Morocco. Tunisia. Greece. And many more places all viewed through the lense of this "noble fruit" we know as the olive. I loved the history (millions of trees around the Med still extant from Roman plantings), economy (how olives played and continue to play a central role in so many places around the world), lore (family origin stories and sense of place centered around olive tree plantings and tendings), recipes, and so much more. 10 out of 10 would eat olives again. And again.
Very well-researched piece on a fruit that has been more political than most throughout history. The exploration into the meaning of the olive tree regarding land “owned” was particularly fascinating. I would have preferred more depth on olive’s relation to classical politics as well.
Besides being informative, this book is a fun jaunt across all of olivedom. Well-written and at times poetic, I was craving olive oil and olives throughout the entire thing.
To read this book in its entirety, either you have a very special interest in and love for olives, or you are very patient, or you are a speed reader -- otherwise chances are you will run out of steam before finishing Mart Rosemblaum's 15 chapters of rambling discourse on how olives are grown, eaten, & or marketed, and the lives and history of the growers, and the landscapes in which they live, each chapter dedicated a different country, covering both sides of the Mediterranean plus America and northern Mexico. Only Turkey, Syria Egypt and Libya were left out. The editors of the North Point Press could have easily helped him abridge the text, since there is quite a bit of repetition, but they evidently did not want to take away from the fun. I love olives myself, but I wish I could have obtained this book as a searchable e-book, so I could go directly to the information I was looking for, rather than find it in bits and pieces, here and there, within the book's 300 pages. It would not be fair if I told you all I learned in a few lines because that would be like telling the child where all the Easter eggs are hidden in the garden. However I will go as far as to say that, upon reading this account, one is left with 2 contradictory impressions reading the future of the olive trade. On the one hand, one should be optimistic, in that the market, especially in the US, has expanded greatly now that the health advantages of oil in one's diet are becoming increasingly evident and popularly known, and the population at large is more and more interested in diverse foods, and food specialty items. As such, paying $10-$20/liter of oil no longer seems outrageous when corn oil is available for a tenth of the price, especially if the oil comes in fancy packaging. But Mort also exposes us to factors that augur a pessimistic outlook, namely (a) an industry structure that provides barely enough sustenance to the the grower (b) the increasing scarcity of the labor required for pruning the trees and picking the olives, (c) at the milling end, a technology that values high throughput at the expense of subtle qualities of taste, with modern methods replacing traditional ones, and machinery is run with excess water and too high a temperature to preserve the elements that distinguish good olive oil, other than just acidity, and finally (d) government regulations and subsidies which are counter-productive in their enforcement (or lack thereof), allowing for cheating, some sectors getting rich at the expense of others, and growing monopolies and other distortions which keep smaller newcomers from penetrating the market. How all these trends apply to each country and each region as well as the industry as a whole is described in great detail, so read the book to know more. But there is also the "gourmet" side of the book. And here is where you will discover that as an average US consumer, you don't really stand a chance to truly enjoy the delights offered by olives and olive oil in your daily cuisine. For that you must travel or move permanently to a Mediterranean country where you are closer to the producer, where the best stuff comes relatively soon after it is milled, and where you can choose among oils from a variety of different olives, extracted at different levels of maturity, and "pickled" in different ways. Unlike most wine which improves with age, olive oil is typically best when fresh and is highly individual. What you will find in a typical supermarket, even the "good" stuff, is usually a blend that lacks personality, so you know exactly what you get, and because it must be geared to the mass market. While you may do better in a "gourmet" store, or on the internet, still these oils and olives are all too expensive to be used unceremoniously, and lack the interest of what is readily available in many of the places you will visit in this book.
Loved this book from the first page: “I figured green olives grew on one kind of tree and black on another” (5). Okay, maybe I knew a teeny bit more than that—but only because I knew that black olives were also called “ripe” olives. But then one day last fall I saw a tree with both green and black olives on it—at the same time. We’d been driving along a dirt road in a rural area with hectare after hectare of olive trees. We stopped, I got out, picked an olive—one that was half between green and black—and bit it. Revelatory: it was the most bitter, astringent thing I have ever put in my mouth. Utterly inedible, unpalatable--how is such a thing transformed?
That was the beginning. I’ve turned oleo europaea maniac. I had had no idea this was true, but it turns out there is as much to know and learn about olives as there is about wine: soil and climate conditions—not to mention tree variety, pruning patterns and pressing methods—create differences in the olives and in the oils produced, with two important differences being that finding an oil you like this year doesn’t mean it will be an oil you like next year (see reasons preceding), and that the oils do not have the longevity of wines. This book touches on the history, socio-economics and current cultivation/production of olives around the Mediterranean (umm…also CA and AZ). That is, specifically France, the Middle East (Palestine, primarily), Spain, Italy (northern and Sicilian), Tunisia, Morocco, Greece (islands and mainland), Bosnia. Rosenblum includes, of course, some archaeological stories, as well as stories of politics and corruption. Also lots of information on health (the chemical breakdowns of various oils according to processes, medical studies of various diets), and—yay!—some wonderful recipes.
Here are a couple of takeaways: 1) much of the “Italian” olive oil that is exported is actually from Spain and North Africa (especially Tunisia): Italy buys it from these countries, blends and repackages it, and exports it to the US, whose consumers tend to have the idea that Italian olive oil is “best” (which is a little like saying that pistachio ice cream is the best ice cream). 2) “Light” olive oil: stay away from it. It is produced and sold because people (typically Americans) will buy it, but in fact although it is usually more expensive than regular olive oil, it’s much cheaper to produce because it has very little extra-virgin olive oil in it (in fact, other oils are often substituted, and seed oils are not very good for us, particularly those that have been extracted in certain ways). And it has exactly the same fat content, with a great deal less of the good fatty acids (alpha-linolenic acid and oleic acid).
What an excellent and engaging writing style, which kept me going from the first words to the very end. This is a great journey to ten different countries which produce olives and olive oil and discusses economics, history, politics and of ourse the kitchen and recipes of olives. I didn't know anything about the subject but I became really intrigued - Mort effectively converted me. I wans't a butter-only person at all but didn't really know what happened with the oil before it ended up in my kitchen. Very good read and enjoying depth - nothing too techincal but not too vague either. The only downside one might came up with is the sometimes "arrogant" approach the author takes when talking about his olive trees.
Love it. This is the second time I've read this book, and it is amazing how well-written and interesting a book focused on one fruit can be. The book makes me hungry for crusty bread and olive oil--and now I wonder how often I've eaten really good olive oil, or if I've only eaten poor quality oil and not known it. Since I buy my olive oil in the grocery store and in see-through bottles, I figure I've not had the best there is. I'm going to find a really good one and see if I can taste the difference. And I'm wondering how hard it would be to plant a couple olive trees on my own land...
The auhtor's engaging writing style is conversational. It feels like a leisurely chat with a friend who's sharing interesting details of his travels with another friend during a long lunch. He packs a lot of information about every aspect of olive history and industry onto each page without making it seem like a classroom text.
His appreciation for olives is obvious, so is his affection for olive industry professionals.
I enjoyed this one. I would have liked more actually about his own olive grove and how that was rescued, but I really enjoyed finding out about how embedded olive culture is around the Med (which was far more exciting than one might have thought).
Finding the flavours Mort did would be taxing without a private plane, but his highlight Nunez de Prado is available online and I look forward to sampling.
Another well researched, work, which shows plenty of taste. Rosenblum, who grows olives on his place in the South of France, or did, went about the Mediterranean, Mexico, and California to find the best tasting olives and olive oil. He was always equipped with a spoon, and plenty of good description, humour, and terrific transition.
I am about halfway through this book right now, it is fantastic. It says a lot for the author when a person who reads his book fees absolutely compelled to eat olive oil during and after each reading session :)
I loved this; I wouldn't have thought there was a market for a micro history of olives, but I am glad there was, because it was totally charming and fascinating. Call 1-800-OLIVEOIL for olive oil emergencies! (True story.)
This book makes you want to eat more olives, and possibly move to France to grow your own. A little like Peter Mayle novels in feeling, but filled with history and facts about the role of olives.