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100% Extra Virgin?

I make olive oil. I know every single step of the process inside out, from sapling to mature tree, from the plucking of the fruit to the winding of the press. I also know how much all this labour of love costs. That’s part of my job too – watching every penny and dime we spend, but making sure we never cut corners. So when I go into a supermarket and see a half litre/17 fl oz bottle of ‘Italian extra virgin olive oil’ for £3 ($6), I know that it can’t be true. Extremely unlikely that it is extra virgin, highly unfeasible that it is Italian and totally conceivable that it isn’t even olive oil!

Let’s look at the maths. Each of our olive trees produces about two litres of olive oil a year. One year, one tree, one harvest, two litres. Each tree costs about €5 to prune. We cut the grass twice a year (sounds easy, but across 21 acres it becomes a little trickier) which works out as €2 per tree . Then the other major expenses are the harvesting by hand, costing about €4 a tree, organic fertiliser at €1 a tree and using the communal press to squash the beauties, coming out at $1.5 for every litre. So we are already up to around €7.50 a litre without including any of the farm overheads, taxes, marketing, organic certification, or big pasta lunches. We are however including the fact that we are paying decent living wages, we are not working people into the ground nor are we employing children.

But just considering the basic cost of product and we still need to add at least another €2.50 a litre for bottling, packaging and transport.  So we’re now up to €10 a litre. With no profit taken by us a shop would typically want to sell this for €20 a litre. This is a long way from our cheap, supermarket extra virgin olive oil. Sure there are economy of scales, and no doubt I could get the harvesters (who include myself incidentally), to work that bit faster, but it’s not going to reduce the costs by an order of magnitude is it?

So it comes as no surprise to me that 4 out of 5 bottles of Italian extra virgin olive oil sold in the UK, USA and China don’t have inside what they say they have on the bottle. Which begs the question, what do they have inside? Well in his brilliant new book ‘Extra Virginity: the sublime and scandalous world of olive oil’, Thomas Mueller offers numerous shocking examples where this ‘italian extra virgin olive oil’ turns out to be mixes of chemically extracted olive oils, cut with nut or sunflower oil or both and it’s likely provenance is Spain, North Africa or Turkey. And I repeat, we are talking about 4 out of every 5 bottles here folks.

I’ve never personally seen evidence of any such shenanigans, but I have visited olive groves around Liguria where nets are left under the trees for the olives to fall into them. The windfall is collected every few weeks for processing – to be extra virgin the olives need to be pressed within 24 hours (not three weeks). Locals openly told me the subsequent oil was refined (to remove the rancid taste) and mixed with fruity foreign oil in a specific ratio so the resulting bottle of oil can still be called “Ligurian”.

So the moral of the story is that you get what you pay for. Don’t take your olive oil for granted. Ask questions about its origins. And heck, you can even go crazy and adopt your very own 100% Italian 100% olive 100% tree.

 

Carrot cake always feels a bit healthier than other cakes doesn’t it? Not really sure how much difference a grated carrot really makes to body and soul, but let’s keep the faith shall we. In this recipe the cake can be served traditionally as a teatime cake, or can be made fancier and served as a desert with the addition of the lovely lemon crema.

Ingredients for 4 people

Eggs – 3

Sugar – 150g/5.3 oz

Olive oil – 100g/3.5 oz

Flour 300g/10.5 oz

Walnuts – 40g/1.4 oz
1 carrot – 1 grated (50g approx)

Packet of yeast

Beat the eggs well with the sugar, add the olive oil, chopped walnuts, grated carrots and then gradually add the flour – the amount will be around 300g/10.5oz but the dough should not be too hard. Finally add the yeast. Bake in the oven for about 30 minutes at 160oC/320oF.

And if you want to serve the torta with a lovely zingy cream, here is the recipe for that.

Ingredients for 4 people

Egg yolks – 2

Sugar – 2 tablespoons

Flour – 2 tablespoons

Rind of an organic lemon

Milk – 400ml/13.5fl.oz

Mix the egg yolks  with sugar, add flour, lemon peel (a whole piece), and milk. Cook over low heat stirring constantly up to boiling. Remove the lemon peel and serve the cream with the carrot cake.

This is also delicious with a little crunch of almond croccante.

The Italian economy

According to a recent report by Confesercenti (a federation of small businesses in Italy) there is one part of the Italian economy that’s booming despite the grim economic times: the Mafia. With £100bn annual profits (to put it another way, 7% of GDP) the Mafia seem to be the only business currently skating on liquidity.

For the majority of the Italian public, times are tough and set to get tougher, even without the onerous bills for state funded Presidential orgies (and on that note, can we please take a moment to celebrate, despite the gloomy times, the fact that the country no longer suffers a president who ‘jokes’ about Obama’s being ‘suntanned’ or threatents to ‘dust off his Playboy charms’ to win over the (female) Finnish Prime Minister. A big hoorah for the passing).

All this feels a far cry from Le Marche, a predominantly agricultural region made up of small family businesses. In Italy there are 2.6 million farms, the vast majority (94.7%) of which are family-operated and small – averaging only 5 hectares in size. These are just the sort of farms that together form the Nudo olive grove co-operative. There’s no pretending times aren’t difficult. Economic pressure as well as all the usual worries of weather and bugs and mosca and all don’t add up to carefree evenings. But at least we can guarantee, through our adoption programme, that they will sell their entire olive oil harvest.

With that, and no Silvio, surely there is reason to be cheerful. Happy 2012.

In the olden days, recycling meant re-using – like actual reusing – by us. Shoeboxes would become document storage systems, shoelaces would have a second life in beaded necklaces and so on. Today it’s much more indirect, involving special bags and weekly schedules and, on a more personal level, no more than a vague pride that your tin of baked beans might once have been the tail fin ofConcord. And it seems so much less efficient. With this in mind, we have been fretting over the fate of our olive oil tins. Apart from anything, they’re just too pretty to be chucked in the recycling bin with last week’s copy of the Radio Times. So we have come up with some easy ways of breathing second life into your Nudo tin, once the oil’s gone of course.

1. Pen holder/desk tidy
Get a can opener. Carefully cut the top off (don’t start near the seam, you need a run up to this), being really careful not to cut yourself as the blood will really spoil the craft look. Carefully dry the inside of the tin. Cover the sharp edge with something you fancy – we used PVC trimming from a car parts shop, but there’s no reason not to go a bit gaga and add fur trim or tinsel.

2. Plant pot.

Do exactly the same as above, but before you pot your plant make a small hole at the bottom of the tin at the back. This will prevent you being woken in the middle of the night to the sound of your plant screaming ‘Help! Help! I’m drowning!’

Have fun, play safe and do send us pics of your creations.

The Ben Tish Dish

Cathy and I, along with half the food-loving population, sometimes fantasise about opening a restaurant.

Cathy’s dream is the ‘starters and puddings’ restaurant, which cuts out the bossy middle man of the main course and allows for variety and experiment in the multitude of courses which replace it. It even has a name – which will only be appreciated by fans of the BBC brains show Mastermind (and quite possibly not even by them) – ‘I’ve started so I’ll finish’.

My mischievous suggestion is a vegetarian restaurant that has just one token meaty main course on offer – to give meat-eaters a taste of how I have suffered for the last three decades in restaurants where the only veggie option involves bland, overcooked pasta  or the dreaded 70s staple goat cheese.

In reality, opening a restaurant business is a bit of a pipe-dream, because everyone who has done it says it is a daunting 24/7 job that leeches the entirety of both your energy and your bank balance. And we would have to agree on the kind of restaurant it would be. The closest real-life example of something we’d have loved to have created ourselves is the Salt Yard in London. Its Italian-Spanish tapas – zucchini flowers stuffed with rich ricotta and drizzled with honey or velvety slices of tuna carpaccio in salsa verde with teeny little broad beans – are just our cup of tea. We’re by no means its only superfans: the success of Salt Yard has led to its brainchilds opening new restaurants Dehesa in Soho and Opera Tavern in Covent Garden (each one an assured and characterful sibling of the firstborn).

The same owners also opened a butchers/charcuterie deli nextdoor to one of their restaurants. Having the impeccable taste they do, they of course stocked Nudo olive oil – and through this connection we discovered that Ben Tish, the Executive Chef across the restaurants, was something of a Nudo fan. For a few months now I’ve been pestering him for a couple of his favourite recipes – and I’m very happy to present the first one. It’s well worth the wait.

Marinated San Marzano tomatoes with borlotti beans and buffalo mozzarella

This really is an assembly of ingredients in their prime with a simple vinaigrette to bring all the flavours together. The beautiful, sweet San Marzano tomatoes are worth trying to get; they are available from specialist food markets. And take the time to buy and cook fresh borlotti beans from the pod. They have a sweet, nutty flavour and absorb the other flavours of this beautiful salad. The Nudo chilli oil adds a really nice kick to the salad with a pleasant fruity undertone.

Serves 4 as a tapa

San Marzano tomatoes – 2, eyes removed and skin pricked

Nudo extra virgin olive oil with chilli – 100ml/3.5 fl oz

Moscatel vinegar – 100ml/3.5 fl oz

Thyme – 1 sprig

Garlic – 1 clove, peeled and sliced

Fresh borlotti beans – 40g/1.4oz podded weight

Small onion – 1

Bay leaf – 1

Carrot – half small peeled

Buffalomozzarella – 1x125g/4.4oz ball

Rocket/rucola – 1 bunch, picked and washed

Sea salt and black pepper

Blanche the tomatoes in boiling water for 10 seconds and then refresh in iced water. Peel off the skins and cut the tomatoes in half length wise. Scoop out the seeds and them place the flesh in a bowl. Pour over the oil, vinegar and add the garlic and thyme. Season well and marinate for at least 2 hours.

Place the beans in a pan and cover with cold water. Add the onion, carrot and bay. Bring to the boil, skim and then simmer until the beans are tender. About 1 hour. Drain off the liquid and reserve the beans.

To serve add the beans to the tomatoes and then tear in the mozzarella. Add the rocket and mix everything very well, season again to taste. Divide the salad evenly between two plates.

At this time of year no bona fide Italian would turn up to a dinner party without an elegantly packaged panettone, pandoro or torrone. If you people-watch at passeggiata time (that lovely post-day, pre-evening interlude), you’ll see all sorts strolling about, carrying their tasteful confections. In deference to this simple and lovely tradition, we started to make our own olive oil panettone. We were very proud when it recently came a close second in a Guardian taste test, and were the first panettone to be mentioned in the New York times for 9 years. Trouble is that this meant we ran out of stock in just three days. So in case you get given a panettone made by someone else, we’ve got a little recipe to turn it into something special.

Ingredients

Panettone – 750g/26oz

Butter – 75g/2.6oz

Milk – 400ml/13.5fl oz

Cream – 150ml/5fl oz single or double

Eggs – 2 free range

Sugar – 125g/1oz

Ground cinnamon – sprinkling

Ground nutmeg – sprinkling

Preheat the oven to 180oC/350oF/GM4. Cut your panettone into slices about 1.5cm/½ inch  thick. Butter one side of each slice and then cut it into triangles.

Lay the pieces on an oven proof baking dish. Continue until you fill the dish, nice and cosy.

Crack the eggs into a mixing bowl and gently whisk them with the sugar. Heat the milk and cream in a saucepan (you can add vanilla too if you like) until it just below boiling. Slowly pour the milk/cream mixture into the mixing bowl with the eggs, stirring continuously. Pour the mixture evenly over the panettone soaking each bready peak, and then put it in the oven for about 25 mins, or until the exposed panettone starts to brown. Eat straight away with cold single cream. (You can also cool it, take to a friend’s house, receive adulation, reheat and eat there).

See some more photos in our Panettone bread & butter pudding album here.

How to make naturally flavored lemon olive oil. See the Nudo photo album here.

x

I’d never heard of ‘supper clubs’. I’d heard of guerrilla dining, and, of course, pop-up restaurants. (In just how many new ways can eating be spun?) I was sceptical. Were ‘supper clubs’ simply another marketing gimmmick or were they actually a new thing? And more importantly, were they a new thing that was any good?

Having now enjoyed the considerable hospitality of the marvellously moustached Arno, I have to declare them a triumph. Joyous and lovely and – yes – rather new and extraordinary. On my thoroughly scientific sample of one, they are a keeper.

The Saltoun supper club is a place (Arno’s house on Saltoun Road), it is a time (Wednesday and Thursday evenings) and it is a philosophy: Arno’s desire to share his wonderful cooking and his home with total strangers.

Arno is one of those people who is happy to live his life inside out. Not in a narcissistic, sharing every burp on Facebook sort of way, but in a confidently old-fashioned sort of way, an ‘I have spent my life collecting interesting things and I’d like you all to enjoy them’ way, an ‘I went to the market this morning and bought the food that excited me to cook for you’ sort of a way.

Dinner was delicious. Simple and sublime, Arno’s cooking poured adjectives onto every edible noun – from his buoyant scallops to his bathic chocolate, his sensual white lasagne to his polyphonic bread. The company of strangers was thrilling and exotic, the comforts of another’s home movingly generous.

You can see more photo’s of the evening, the guests and the wonderful 6-course meal here.

There are three things guaranteed to put me in the Christmas mood. The first is the smell of pine trees. The second is the first December airing of Jason’s copy of Phil Spector’s ‘Sounds of Christmas’ CD. And the third is the sight of someone carrying a preposterously prettily-packaged panettone. I absolutely love panettone and as far as I’m concerned it was one of the loveliest things you can give or receive. It’s a big fat show off of a gift and as delicious outside as in.

So we were very excited at the prospect of creating our very own Nudo panettone. We got talking to several panettone makers about the idea of experimenting with olive oil (it is traditionally made using only butter) and eventually decided on the Signor Scarpato bakery. They made some panettone using our mandarin olive oil and others with the lemon, but in the end the one we liked best (and a special thank you to our Nudo customer tasters) was the one they made with our plain Nudo olive oil. We then discovered that we couldn’t actually call our ‘panettone’ ‘panettone’ in Italy as the strict protection of this Milanese classic dictates that to be a ‘panettone’ it must be 100% butter (ours is half butter and half olive oil). We still secretly call it panettone amongst ourselves, please don’t dob us in to the Italian food special ops.

Anyway, our first panettone-esque-large-cakes-of-delicious-airy-dough-and-dried-fruit was featured in no less a publication that the New York Times’ Dining Section, so we must have done something right. Better clear your larders in anticipation – and get your order in before it’s all gone. Nearly time to dig out that CD…

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