OLIO NOVELLO IN SICILY

Jean-François Bizalion travels from the Berkshires to Italy to celebrate the start of the olive harvest

BY JEAN-FRANÇOIS BIZALION

It’s Nov. 22, 2021, and in the distance, Mount Etna is spewing smoke. It is halfway through the harvest of olives in the outskirt of Centuripe — a town shaped like a man laying on top of a mountain, facing the volcano.

Every day, a small white Fiat van, loaded with 16 to 20 red plastic crates of emerald and onyx olives the size of robin’s eggs, is driven to the frantoio (mill) in the outskirt of Catania. Within a couple of hours, the nocellara etnea, the predominant olive varietal grown on these rich, fertile volcanic grounds, are extracted into olive oil. And with a harvest that happens when autumn turns to winter, this brief and culminating moment in the production of olive oil, the name of the first olive oil pressed from fresh green olives and the celebration of the start of the harvest season, is called “olio novello.”

After two years of stalling our visit because of traveling restrictions, my family and I are spending a few days with our olive oil producers: Mello, who oversees the cultivation of 80 hectares (about 198 acres) of olives and oranges, and Maria Grazia, the owner of the giardini (gardens), as her family calls the land they own.

THE HARVEST

For context, their olive oil is among the selection we bring every year to our shop, Bizalion’s Fine Food, in Great Barrington.

From what I have seen in other areas of Italy, olio novello is somewhat akin to the birth of a child — erasing the fears of harvest pitfalls that might have loomed throughout the growing season, such as lack or excess of water, and half a dozen of fungi and diseases that could put the olive tree and the fruit at risk.

Here with Signore Tomachio, the owner of the frantoio — a high-ceilinged warehouse that allows skids to drop mountains of olives into stainless steel equipment linked with conveyors and pipes — euphoria is palpable. Olive oil growers are bringing their crop on a pre-booked schedule, and the pace is fast. A young couple has hauled the harvest of a dozen trees, maybe 300 kilograms (about 661 pounds), which will, in turn, yield roughly 60 liters of olive oil.

After a process of cleaning, grinding, malaxing (slow churning or mixing) and spinning, olives are transformed into a pulp. In the last stage, olive oil is  separated from the remaining water in spinning turbines. And then, through what looks like an ordinary piece of plumbing equipment, a geyser of neon green liquid flushes through. This is olio novello.

The city of Catania, Sicily, and Mount Etna, one of the world’s most active volcanoes, seen in the distance.

A dish is filled, and slices of bread are laid around it. I find the bread obstructs the taste. I pour a drop on the back of my hand, in a shallow cup between the thumb and the index finger. I tilt my head back and drop the oil in my mouth. It’s pungent, harsh on the tongue and throat. On subsequent trials, I detect a faint citrusy aroma and herbs — specifically, wild mint. I keep repeating the trial, unwrapping the complex bouquet of flavors of an olive oil that has become a great part of my life. I congratulate Mello, Maria and her son, Ernesto. “Bello,” I say too often, not knowing a better way to praise the oil, the moment, the place — Sicily, even.

I appreciate the chance to be within the circle of people who agree that food should be made with integrity, with tradition — and accessible when it is at its best. Mello hands me a 1.5-liter plastic bottle full of olio novello. Any vessel goes, as he passes some more to members of the family.

In the meals to come, olive oil will be the star, in bread, soups, salads, meat and fish. Meanwhile, I mourn that I will be forced to leave my gift behind, otherwise having to give it up at the boarding gate on my flight back to the U.S.

Olio Novello, just extracted, is poured into a container.

The olive oil produced is unfiltered by choice. Unfiltered olive oil contains higher antioxidants than filtered olive oil. We do know that it deteriorates faster, therefore, it is best consumed within the year that follows production. No worries there — Sicilians are among the largest group of olive oil consumers in the world.

Above, right, Jean-François Bizalion carries a crate of olives during a visit to Sicily.

Unfiltered olive oil remains opaque due to the minuscule floating particles, similar to freshly squeezed orange juice, and might not conform exactly to the public perception of what olive oil should be.

Small-scale production of olive oil remains, and mostly is consumed in Sicily. It is specially obvious in the region spanning from Catania to the town of Enna, where traditions run deep. With their aging roads, towns born from Greek settlements in the 7th century B.C., such as Centuripe, Adrano, Biancavilla and Enna are supremely authentic. Few tourists visit there, at least past September. ■

Jean-François Bizalion, who co-owns Bizalion’s Fine Food in Great Barrington, grew up in Arles, France.