Manzanillo

Many years ago, when I was working as a waitress in Kansas City, a busboy wanted to buy his first car. The advice from the bartender was this, "Save your money for as long as you can, and when you just can't stand it anymore, go out and buy the biggest, fastest car you can afford."

My olive trees were a little like this. I spent some time writing about olive oil, and researching which trees would do best in a coastal climate. I hoped for a Leccino, which seemed hearty for a Tuscan varietal. But I took an olive brining workshop with Don Landis. He holds free classes on salt brining olives throughout Sonoma. But even more intriguing than his brining--a traditional Greek recipe that includes fennel bulbs and garlic-- method is his harvesting. As he makes his rounds through Sonoma and Marin County repairing refridgerators, he keeps an eye out for fruiting olive trees along highways or in residential yards. When he spots one he likes, he knocks on the door and asks the residents if he can harvest their tree. They almost always say yes, as the fruit gets messy when it falls. Later, he shows back up at their door with a jar of garlic and fennel brined olives for them.

He likes the large Manzanillo olives, which are perfect for table olives. It's too cool here for the Mission olive. I taught English in Seville, Spain during the World Expo there and a neighbor used to jar olives with lemons halves, whole pieces of garlic and handfuls of oregano. We used to buy huge jars of them and snack constantly. I'm going to assume they were Manzanillos. Then, since the nursery didn't have a Leccino, I noticed the lovely Arbequina tree. It's also a varietal mostly used for oils, as the fruit is small. It's not Tuscan, but rather from the Catalonia section of Spain. They are supposed to be excellent for containers.

Arbequina