È Stato un Vero Piacere!

Oct 11

What a week, filled with delightful meetings and people, let alone immersions in the world of olive cultivation and olive oil production, such as through reading about the little fruit with the great history in finishing the book L’Oliva: La Grande Storia di un Piccolo Frutto (Shäfer-Schuchardt: 2002) that Corrado at Masseria Brancati lent me a while back, and in practice learning about invaiatura and the timing of harvest to make ottimo olio. The epiphanies have been many, and I have especially noticed that to on a daily basis read in Italian about the histories and practices by which Apulian olive oil becomes, not only makes a splendid way to advance the context-laden vocabulary of mine, but also for more embodied and comprehensive understanding of connections between practices and knowledges, past and present, spoken and unspoken, and the ways they play out in the everyday life of olivicoltura. I have also noticed that as passionate as I am learning about the practices, processes, methods, traditions, and histories of the making of olive oil in Puglia, as eager are people to educate me—instructively and practically, by means of show and tell as well as by show and invite to do. Just as the olive rapidly ripens this time of the year, I am rapidly growing know-howed in becoming a skilled apprentice in the field. However, rather than turning violaverde, as does the olive, and rather than becoming more and more acid, as does the olive, I turn greener and greener as I put my workwear on – I have a thing for green that shows in my gear – and rather than becoming bitter, I become humbly appreciative of the everyday food product that olive oil constitutes in my household. Dressing or cooking with it, I imagine at once the resources and dedications by with it was made, remembering the fact that for every 9 kilos of olives harvested last week, 1 liter of cold pressed extra virgin oil was produced.

Starting last Friday with the pressing of the first harvest of the year, I had a somewhat different experience than expected, especially in sensorial terms, where the mandatory indoor use of la mascherina acted barrier from the otherwise so intensely smelled scent of freshly pressed olives. While I, like I noted other people doing, momentarily lifted my mask an inch away from my nose so to allow myself to experience the aromatic redolence filling up the air, I found myself rather occupied with thoughts about how the covering layer affects the experience of olive oil extraction than actually being affected by it as such: the brief escape from the coffee-breath of my mouth, ephemeral as it were, made me pay more attention to how the void of the instant smell of olive oil makes for a much different experience of the pressing facility than to the scent itself.

Speaking of the pressing facility, I have this week had the great pleasure to establish collaboration with no less than two producers making use of so called traditional pressing techniques, and I am thrilled to have done so! Not just as I am excited to myself experiencing a go-about technique that I have read and being told about from an historical perspective, but also as it occurs much relevant to do so in expanding the awareness of the scope of situated knowledges inherent to the range of processes, techniques, and methods by which olive oil becomes in time and space. This goes not only for olive oil extraction, but also for other aspects, such as that of harvesting; while most of the producers that I work with make use of mechanic modes of collecting olives, some do collect manually using handheld combs. Hence, as we now enter the primetime of harvest, it will be much intriguing to partake in each mode and myself practically engage the varieties of approaches and trajectories by which olives are collected and oils thereof are made.

Being on the topic of harvest and oils being made, due to Xylella fastidiosa, quite a portion of Apulian olive oils are no longer made, which is something my research considers too. However, a huge drawback with my research thus far is that I, specifically for the reason that little oils these days are made in desiccated areas, have had some difficulties finding research collaborators. Fortunate enough to have done two pre-studies through which I already established a handful contacts, I have more importantly learnt that the best way to locate collaborators in these areas is to drive around and simply stop and talk to people spotted working in orchards. And so, driving by a man in the most southern parts of Lecce yesterday, noting him spraying seemingly tremendously Xylella fastidiosa affected olive plants with something and being curious about what he did, I was made aware of the biological stimulant used as an attempt to reinvigorate at once the plants and businesses in the hardships suffered from acres of desiccated orchards. Better yet, I got myself an additional collaborator to carry out fieldwork with.

Coming to an end, Sunday as it is, the week may be summarized using an Italian expression that recently became part of my vocabulary, è stato un vero piacere, for it has indeed been a true pleasure! For starters, the people I have had the pleasure of meeting, mamma Mia, the generosity, warmth, passion, and professionalism of them is moving. Dedicational and heartfelt really. Their engagement in my research is above and beyond and I feel so fortunate to have all these marvelous research collaborators to carry out my project with, let alone, mentors and mates to hang out with while doing so. I am struck by the way in which they readily make me feel like one of them, like family, and it is with bafflement that I am enthusiastically provided books and other resources to immerse myself with. Even got a bag of zucchini flowers the other day, and how wonderful is not that, to get dinner back home! Cooked them with herbs and dressed them with olive oil and volià, buon appetito a noi! As if that was not enough of delightful happenstances for a week, without prior knowledge on my behalf of some of the specific expertise featured by some research collaborators – ranging from history via commerce to agronomy and oil tasting – the complementary perspectives and knowledges appear an utmost fortunate occurrence that make for an equally fortunate research situation. Ending on such a positive note of my research situation, I will be forever grateful for the benevolence with which I am embraced and for the traditions and knowledges that I through my participation in their daily work may take part of, for it is not to be taken for granted to be so welcomely immersed as I have had the privilege to be. As a way to reciprocate, I will devotedly do my best to tell their sides of the story of the becoming of Apulian olive oil, and by making known the supply chain from particular points of practitioners, hopefully, expand the public knowledge of all the work, passions, struggles, traditions, techniques, processes, components, and more going into makings of the golden drops (which are not to be take for granted either).