At the top of my list is a thoroughly good read, journalist Tom Mueller's Extra Virginity: the Sublime and Scandalous World of Olive Oil.
Mr Mueller is an American investigative journalist who has made it his business to - so to speak - immerse himself in extra virgin oil. I tip my hat to him. As a journalist myself with occasional pretensions to investigative work, this is a book I would like to have written. I owe him for a lot more than my blog title.
Here is a short volume that explores the olive oil business from its most fragrant and appealing heights to the murkiest depths. It's a companion, a trove of information, and a muse for the oil-inspired.
Mueller starts his book in an oil-tasting laboratory in Milan. He's in the company of a man named Flavio Zaramella, a 66-year-old Italian businessman, a professional olive oil taster. (Yes, there are such people - they are called sommeliers, like wine experts.)
Zamarella and his expert companions are sitting in separate cubicles, waiting for oil samples in tulip-shaped glasses dunked in a thermostatically-controlled yoghurt-maker to reach a prescribed temperature of precisely 28 degrees C. If that seems a touch odd, wait for what happens next. Yes, the sommeliers taste the oil - it's how they do it that gets you sitting up. The eight tasters sniff and taste each of the six samples in turn using a technique apparently known as stripaggio.
This, says Mr Mueller, is a special gurgling inhalation of oil and air, a kind of 'volcanic slurp' that coats the taste buds and wafts the oil's aroma into the nasal passages.... "They took a mouthful of oil. And then, as if they'd all been stricken by an oil-induced seizure, they began sucking in air violently at the corners of their mouths...."
I've tried this, and it's not something I really recommend. Especially in polite company. But it does rather make the point on which the whole romance of real extra-virgin olive oil depends - it's a magical substance which has to look, smell, feel and taste right. Just like wine. Stripaggio-ing away, the tasters are grading each oil for its flavour, aroma, intensity and texture, and looking out for imperfections like 'rancid', 'fusty', 'vinegary', 'muddy' or 'metallic'.
"Oil talk sounds like effete nonsense, until you actually put a good oil in your mouth," the delightful-sounding Zaramella tells Mueller - who then has a go himself and rather gilds the lily here by reporting that "tasting these oils was like strolling through a botanic garden, touring a perfume factory, and taking a long drive through spring meadows with the windows down, all at the same time."
Forget volcanic slurping. You don't need to bother with a temperature-controlled yoghurt-maker and a tulip-shaped glass, or to master the doubtful art of the stripaggio, to distinguish real extra-virgin olive oil from a poor imitation. Next time you buy a bottle of oil, just sniff and then taste it - really taste it. No ciabatta, no dipping, just a little oil. Half a teaspoonful will do the trick. Does it have a pleasantly herby, fresh flavour, or does it taste like sump oil? Does it make you cough (good) - or gag (bad)? More on that later.
Anyway, that's the taste test at the heart of the 'sublime and scandalous' olive oil business Mr Mueller's fine book goes on to analyse, investigate and expose, and the matter this blog will explore between now and ev-day (extra-virgin day). (If you are in the N4 area, we'll be having a tasting on November 25th.)
It's certainly the flavour of botanic garden, perfume factory and spring meadows that we'll be hoping for when we catch the first mugful of new oil from the Abruzzo mill in the middle of next month
Here's looking forward to an Extra Virgin season.
No comments:
Post a Comment