Once in a Lifetime

Once in a Lifetime

McCabe Hemmers

3/2/16

"You guys are very lucky today."

Mr professor was right. It's not every day that you get to take a field trip to an olive oil factory. This isn’t any regular olive oil factory either. The name of the mill is Frantoio Ferraro, located in the hills of Montechiaro, Italy. It is owned by the Ferraro family and has been for  almost a century.

It was a sunny morning with absolutely no clouds in the sky. The Gulf of Naples and sky nearly mirrored each other and Mount Vesuvius was towering over the sea, like it always is. At the top of the hill outside of the factory is a terrace where we would soon be sampling olive oil and meats. First, we would get to tour the factory to see how the product is developed.

Producing olive oil is by no means easy. It is one of those processes that at first glance does not look hard, but so much more goes into it that you cannot see. The first step is to harvest the olives. We were not be able to see this because harvest season was over (October to January) and the olives are harvested in another location. However, our professor did tell us a little bit about the process.The workers beat the branches by hand, shaking them so that the olives fall into a big net that catches the fruit. At the end of the harvest, the branches of the olive tree need to be cut to keep the plant productive. In other words, pruning will help the plant to produce more crop, and stay healthy.

The next step is transporting the olives to the mill. Even this action has to be done with a special perforated plastic box, to assure the olives have air and do not get moldy or crushed. Next, the olives are cleaned so that any solid particles such as leaves and other debris are not mixed in. The olives are then sucked through a box-like container, and transported up a conveyor belt. They fall into a grinder at the top of the conveyor belt.

After grinding, the olives are kneaded in a big steel tank with steel blades rotating slowly. At this point, the olives look like a thick wet sand, or much like a paste. The color of the paste is wine-like due to the variety of colored olives being mashed together. After kneading, the separation process occurs so that there are no more solids, as the desired product is liquid oil. Once separated, the oil pours out into a huge metal bucket. It is filtered and then ready for packaging.

The amazing part is that whatever isn't turned into oil is used to make more olive-based products. The Ferraro mill does not waste a single part of the olive, from the pits to the paste. They only use the liquid for the highest quality olive oil. The solid parts of the olive are then turned into Sansa, which can be used for lower quality oil. The workers can also take the solids and turn it into a biomass or as Ammendante, which is used to support natural fertilizers. It is not only devotion, but an effective use of the whole plant. I really appreciate that they strive to not waste anything. It proves that the process is so much more of an art than a profit-scheme. The Ferraro’s prefer quality above anything else.

Now that the tour was over, we got to taste the fruits of their labor. I'm not joking when I say it is the best olive oil I have ever had. It only helped that I would be tasting this family-made olive oil in such a beautiful place. The olive oil was sweet, and rich in flavor. All you needed was a tiny dab plopped on a piece of bread and your taste buds exploded with joy. It was sacred, just as the Greeks believed when they first discovered olives. I mean, the Greeks would use olive oil for their skin. Olive trees are also indigenous to Greece.  

We were then handed a plate with different types of meat. The plate looked like a painters palette, with shades of red, pink, and white. "Really enjoy each individual taste" my professor advised us.

All of the meats included in the tasting were Salumi: Coppa, lardo(both local) and prosciutto. It was easy to feel the different tastes, but difficult to explain it. Some were softer, others were harder. Some took a couple bites to swallow, others slid down my throat as if it was liquid. The spicy ham(lardo) is the most notable, as I needed to chase it with five glasses of water.

Along with the meats, we got a piece of bread and cheese. The cheese was sharp and delicious. Even the bread was to die for: soft, warm and fluffy. Along with our food, we were given some wine and water. Lucky for me, a girl to my right was not too fond of prosciutto or meat in general. Boy, did I feel sorry for her. I happily ate seconds, this time actually trying to enjoy each individual taste more than I had on the first plate.

At the end of the tasting, we were guided to the gift shop. I bought a bottle of the famous D.O.P. olive oil for ten euro. D.O.P. stands for Denominazione di Origine Protetta, literally translated to Designation of Origin to ensure its validity as a top of the line product. The bottle remains unopened on my kitchen counter. I’m saving it as a gift for my family. My professor approved of this idea because this is very, very special olive oil. In fact, in the United States, imported olive oil is sometimes diluted for profit reasons. It is actually the mafia who does this, not the good people of Southern Italy. The mafia has their hands in almost everything, including food transportation.  

On the bus ride home, I was sad to be leaving. There is something about family-ran businesses that is just so damn unique. Even in America, the mom and pop shops are always the ones we keep coming back to because they’re so special and quirky. Here, it was one of those experiences that make you never want to leave the giant peninsula. If you ever have the chance to go, you will forever be in love with the Ferraro’s olive oil.