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| Fat Manzanilla olives. |
I’m celebrating an anniversary! This blog has been going, pretty much weekly, for 15 years! In honor of the occasion and of olive-picking season, I am posting that first blog with updates and a new recipe.
(November 2009.) I like to tell my guests that the olives they are nibbling come from the tree they’re sitting under. No, don’t reach up and pluck one! Straight from the tree, they are impossibly bitter and astringent. Olives need a curing process to make them edible.
That’s what I’m doing this week, picking, sorting, cracking and soaking olives that will become table olives, eating olives. They are picked green—soon after the first fall rains soak the parched earth and plump up the olives.
Nov. 2024. We picked more than a month ago and are now tasting the cured olives.
Most of my olive trees are varieties usually pressed for oil. But I have several Manzanilla trees that produce big fat, fleshy olives, the same kind you usually find in jars at the supermarket. The home-cured ones are very different from commercial olives. Commercial olives are soaked in an alkaline solution (lye) to remove the bitterness. Home-cured ones require nothing more than water and salt, plus seasoning.
I prepare my olives in the Andalusian style that I learned from local country people many years ago.
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| Cracking olives before brining. |
First, the olives must be cracked with a stone or mallet to split them open. This allows the soaking liquid to quickly penetrate to the pit. Uncracked olives require months to sweeten; split ones take about three weeks.
I wear old clothes because smacking olives splatters oil everywhere. I’ve also tried the method from Extremadura, where olives are rayado, incised with a sharp blade. (I resisted buying a rough wooden tool that had both a clapper for splitting open the olives and a hole with blades for slitting them.) As an experiment this year, I used a little gizmo, like a hole-punch, to remove the pits from some of the olives. (I’ll report back on whether this was successful or not.)
I place the olives in small earthenware jugs, orsas. I cover them with water. I use non-chlorinated well water. It’s extremely hard water (high in calcium, demonstrated by limescale on my kettle), which may help keep the olives crisp. I drain off the water and refresh it every two or three days until, when tasted, the olives are no longer bitter.
Defining bitter is very subjective. I bought some cured olives at the market a few days ago that I would say were still really bitter. It’s a matter of taste. I let mine soak, changing the water every few days, until they are really sweet. That takes about three weeks.
The olives are then immersed in brine, where they continue to cure, as well as take on flavor. Years ago, I learned that the brine should be strong enough to float an egg. That can vary depending on the freshness of the egg! Optimal measures: measure the water required to cover the olives. Use 7 tablespoons of kosher salt or any non-iodized salt for every 4 cups of water. (Basically, use a 10 percent brine for initial fermentation, then store the olives in a 12.5 percent brine.)
Now comes the flavoring. In my village, traditional flavoring for olives includes quartered lemons, unpeeled cloves of garlic, sprigs of thyme and flowering bracts of fennel. Elsewhere in Spain, I have sampled olives flavored with strips of red pepper, chile, oregano, vinegar.
Although the olives are ready to eat in a few days, flavor develops as fermentation continues. After about a month, I pack the olives into clean jars and refrigerate them. Without conservatives, they last for months. That is, they last if I haven’t given them all away by Christmas.
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| Four kinds of olives this year. Ben took charge of cracking, soaking, brining and seasoning the Moriscas in the clay jar and a small jar of whole ones. I doggedly had another go with whole, uncracked Manzanillas. The dry-salt cured black olives were a new experiment. |
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| Garlic, thyme, fennel to flavor. |
(Nov. 2024) After years of experimenting, I have discovered that the fat Manzanilla olives do not keep well with the home-cure. They lose their crispness and the skins become leathery. (Next year we may try the method with sosa caustica, lye, for the Manzanillas.)
Years ago my friend Antonia told me that the only variety of the several on my land that are good para endulzar, to fix as table olives, is the Morisca. This olive is smaller than the Manzanilla but with a good ratio of flesh to pit and a thinner skin. After the fermentation process, the olives stay crisp in seasoned brine for months. Ben took charge of the cracking and seasoning this year. They are the best olives ever!
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| Salt-dried black olives. |
We also experimented with dry-salt curing of ripe, black Manzanilla olives. Coated with coarse salt, the olives were left to drain and dry in a slotted container. The result is wrinkly black olives somewhat like Greek or Moroccan varieties, but very big and juicy. Will they keep?
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| Whole Manzanillas. |
I put one jar of whole (not cracked), green Manzanillas in brine for about two months. They’re delicious, but already are becoming soft. Another jar of whole Moriscas is better.
You can add flavor to bottled, store-bought olives. Buy unpitted Seville olives (big Manzanillas). Drain them and rinse well. Marinate them for two days with slivered garlic, salt, sprigs of fresh or dried thyme, a sliced lemon and a little extra virgin olive oil.
In Spain, olives are enjoyed as a tapa and alongside meals. They top typical salads, from mixed greens to exotic orange, onion and salt cod. They are used rarely in cooking, although duck with olives is a Sevilla classic. Olivada is an olive pâté, sensational spread on toasts.
The olive blog was originally published Nov. 7, 2009. A month later (Dec. 10) I posted a follow-up, The Taste Test, and deleted the original blog. Check the blog archives for more entries about olives. You can search for recipes or product information in the little window that appears in the upper-left hand side of the screen. (To see the search window on a mobile phone screen, scroll to the end of the blog and switch to “view web version.” The (tiny) search window appears in the upper left corner.)
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Pork Stew with Olives (2024)
Estofado de Cerdo con Aceitunas
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| Strips of pork are braised with Sherry, olives added at the end of cooking. |
Serves 4.
1 pound pork shoulder
Salt
Freshly ground black pepper
Flour
3 tablespoons olive oil
1 cup chopped onion
3 cloves garlic
1/3 cup dry Sherry
½ cup grated tomato pulp or canned crushed tomatoes
2 cups meat stock or water
Carrots (optional)
Pinch of winter savory or thyme
4 medium potatoes, cut in small pieces
1 cup pitted olives
Chopped parsley
Slice and cut the pork into 3-inch strips. Sprinkle with salt and pepper and let them come to room temperature. Dredge the pork in flour and pat off excess. Heat the oil in a heavy skillet. Brown the pork strips and remove them.
Add the onions and garlic to the skillet and sauté them until softened and beginning to brown, 5 minutes. Add the Sherry and cook 2 minutes. Add the tomatoes, stock and carrots, if using. Return the pork to the pan. Season with salt, pepper and savory or thyme. When the liquid is bubbling, regulate the heat so the stew cooks gently. Cover and cook 15 minutes. Add the potatoes and cook 15 minutes longer or until potatoes are done and meat is tender. Add the olives and heat thoroughly. Serve the stew sprinkled with parsley.
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| Add a pop of color to olive-drab stew with a sprinkling of cranberries or pomegranate kernels. |
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