Olive You

Olives still on the tree

Yesterday we participated in an event I've been looking forward to for over a year.  It wasn't a national holiday or even a significant celebration. Rather, we joined some Albanian friends for a day of pressing olive oil.  We had been invited to partake in this late fall Albanian tradition last year but we couldn't make our schedules work to accommodate the pressing.  This year, we arranged our schedules around this event.

I had toured an olive oil factory during their off season so I was familiar with the machines and the process but I still wasn't sure what to expect.  The factory itself was nondescript.  We had actually driven past it before without noticing that it was even there.  Only a small sign nailed to a post at the top of the driveway gave any indication to the sweet oil that was produced at the bottom of the hill.  The first thing I noticed upon entering the factory was that it was very loud.  The sounds emanating from the machinery were deafening so I was pleased to see that the actual workers in the factory were wearing ear protection.  (The same can't be said for the handful of old men who were sitting around a table in the pressing room drinking raki).  Factory is almost a generous term for the building.  In reality it was an immaculate concrete structure with the ubiquitous bar/cafe attached to it.

The process itself hasn't changed much over the centuries but the equipment involved certainly has.  What used to be done completely by hand is now done with electricity driven machinery.  I can only imagine how much time it took to press olive oil the old fashioned way!  Burlap bags of freshly harvested olives were lined up along the walls of the pressing room.  I immediately noticed that some of the olives were green while others were purplish-black. It turns out that both kinds can be used and interchangeably at that.  The darker fruit are actually the ripe olives while the green ones are the unripe ones.  It makes sense.

The first step is for the olives to be sorted to remove any leaves and twigs that are mixed in with the olives.  The process brought me back to my Maine roots reminding of the way wild blueberries are sorted before being turned into blueberry delights.  The bags of olives are dumped into a large hopper that is set into the ground; they are then vacuumed up into the industrial sized sorting machine.

Olives being emptied into the hopper for sorting.

Coming out of the sorter all picked over

After the olives are sorted, they are ready for a hot bath.

Post bath, the olives then move into the actual pressing chamber.  Here they are ground and mashed into a puree to remove all of the tasty oils.

This is what the olives look like as the oil is being pressed out

Next, the extracted oil is filtered and pumped through a series of pipes and vats until it emerges as a beautiful green liquid.  This oil has a bright olive flavor (the same can't be said for many oils) that to my inexperienced palate tasted ready to use.  We were told that we need to let the oil sit in open containers for 24 hours to allow it to breathe.  After that, the oil should be stored in glass bottles in a dark space in order to keep its flavors pure.

What I found the most facinating about the entire process is what happens to the olive remnants after the oils are removed.  The mashed pulp and pits are transferred into a drying room where they are allowed to dry until they resemble dry saw dust.  They are then stored until next year's olive oil pressing when they are used as the fuel that heats the olive bath water.  How cool is that?

The pulp and pit room

Bags (and piles) of dried pulp and pits

This is what $100 of fresh olive oil looks like in Albania.  I can only imagine what this  one-year supply would cost us in the U.S.

We came home with 20 liters of fresh olive oil.  That is a lot of oil for us but for most Albanians, who cook only with with olive oil, it represents a fraction of what is needed to get through a year.  We also brought home 3 kilograms of cured olives. Considering I'm the only one in the Brown house who eats olives, that is a lot of late night snacking for one person.  I declined the offer for fresh, uncured olives though since I cured a batch of my own this past fall.  You can read about that experience here.

Up All Night

I've battled with insomnia for years but in recent months my sleepless nights have increased in both length and frequency.  I've tried all of the conventional remedies for sleeplessness; a dark room, background noise machines, herbal tea before bed, decreased consumption of beverages containing caffeine, and even prescription medicines.  None have ever proven to be effective.  I've learned that stress is my biggest trigger; when I have a lot on my mind I just can't shut off my brain to get a restful night's sleep.  I don't necessarily think I've been more stressed lately, if anything I feel as though I've settled into a comfortable routine, but apparently my subconscious is telling me otherwise.  The irony of insomnia is that the less sleep I get, the more I think about the need to sleep and ergo, the less sleep I get.  As has been the case for the past two decades, I know this phase will eventually pass.  In the meantime, I'm awake a lot at night and have been spending much of this time thinking.

So what does one do when they are wide awake and the rest of the household is sleeping peacefully (ok, they are both snoring but at least they are sleeping)?  First I listen to the sounds of the night.  Our house is surprisingly loud.  At night, the creaks and groans of the house seem to be magnified by the darkness.  Now that the weather has cooled off we have taken to sleeping with our windows open.  I'm learning that our neighborhood is surprisingly loud all night long.  Street dogs bark almost continually and due to the position of our house, the noise from passing vehicles on the main road seems to flow straight into our house.  The other constant is the sound of roosters crowing.  I used to think that these birds only sounded their alarm as the sun rose but Albanian roosters apparently move to their own schedule.  Whether it is two, four, or six in the morning, these roosters are crowing.

After hours of laying awake and thinking about all the things I need to do; tasks for work, tasks for home, menus for approaching dinners,  and holiday travel plans, I eventually break down and get up out of bed.  I usually end up in front of the computer- and if the stars are aligned, our internet connection is up and running (the nights when it isn't working make each passing minute feel like hours).  During our first few months here I used to spend these predawn hours searching the internet for online shopping deals.  I never thought I'd say it but I think I've reached my internet shopping saturation point.  I have now changed my focus.

I now spend my awake hours seeking out new recipes, planning dinner menus, and wondering how I can turn my passion into a career.  I have a fantasy that post-Navy life will find me owning my own bakery and catering company.  Given the economy, the financial considerations for starting a new business, and the need to save for Sidney's college education, this is probably just a pipe dream but it is fun to think about none the less.  (And it helps pass those long nighttime hours).  As a part of my dream, I've decided to put more focus on writing about my food experiences.  As such, I've launched a "sister" blog to this one.  Albania or Bust:  The Food Files, talks about my thoughts regarding shopping, cooking, and eating while living in Albania or where ever our travels take us.  I will continue writing my original blog but hope my new blog will allow me to focus on the nitty-gritty food details that excite me but bore most people.  Blogs are subjective and in many cases self-serving.  While I started this blog to keep my family and friends connected with our Albanian lives, I will be writing my new blog more for me.  I may not be able to currently live out my culinary dreams but I can try to put my thoughts and dreams onto virtual paper.  This project might not help me sleep, but it will at least give me something to show for all of my late night/early morning waking hours.