This olive business has got me thinking. I had the most curious invitation recently…to write about olives! What could be interesting enough about an olive to deserve its own story? Right away I knew I should do some research, meaning, eat some olives to get to know them better. I pretty quickly realized that not only does the olive deserve its own story, but there were going to be too many stories to write in this small space.
My tale begins with a note from Chris Kerston, from Chaffin Family Orchards. ‘Would you like to cure some olives, and write about your experience?’ Weird, I thought. Why olives. And, more weird… Why me?
His invitation was also going out to some pretty experienced bloggers and food aficionados. Suspecting I was in over my head, I started right in with my research…I popped a fat green olive, stuffed with (hot) jalapeno into my mouth. Zing! Yeah, silly word. But that’s the message that went from my tastebuds to my brain.
Since I can’t eat too many of those in one sitting, I savored the zing, and dug into some real research – about how, exactly one would go about ‘curing’ an olive.
I balanced my Google-to-brain research with my hand-to-mouth research. Thanks to a selection of home cured olives I secured from an experienced local curer, plus a few non-local varieties, I was able to mull over the always popular green-stuffed-with-garlic – toasty (said my tastebuds), green-with-pimento – double fruity, Peloponnese – well rounded and satisfying, the sundried black kalamata – salty and tart, and a plain green – ah, nice finish.
These flavors are as complex as wine! Of course there’s a story here. Curing olives – this is for me – how do I start ?
My Google search led me to page after page of detailed instructions, and first hand tips from those who have braved this road before me.
Green olives, black olives, ripe olives. Mission, Barouni. Brine, rinsing, tasting, testing, waiting. Salt, crock, gloves, lye, safety goggles ….. whoa, hold on. What am I signing up for ?!
Suddenly, I had a whole new appreciation for the patience and dedication of those who cure olives. Even while the taste of those lovingly cured, locally grown olives from trees that are nurtured in the warm sun of the California summer… was still on my tongue, my skeptical brain started flashing back scenes from a not so happy experience long ago with a crock of sauerkraut from Nanny’s recipe bubbling away in a moldy corner of a basement.
I was right. I am out of my league. Sometimes we just don’t realize what goes into the preparation of the simple foods we love. We take for granted those delicious appetizers at a party. Hours, days, weeks…how much time was spent perfecting the flavors of each batch.
As I agonized over the commitment I was about to make, my friend Sam reminded me that I could always just ‘go to the store’ if I want olives.
He’s right, of course. But, just like the first time I canned peaches, or made a pumpkin pie from a pumpkin instead of a can…my whole view of olives had been transformed. There’s a serious art to this.
The reality of the whole situation took hold of me, and I sent Chris a note, citing time constraints and limited kitchen size in my defense : ‘Sorry, I don’t think I’m up to this challenge … but will you save me some of yours ?’
Maybe next year I’ll cure olives. But, for now, you can read about the exploits of the olive from a couple of blogs by those braver than me:
The Olive Oyl Experiment–Curing Olives Using Traditional Methods and Barouni Olives: Adventures in Olive Curing.
Thanks Chris, for asking !
