The Harvest

Kathy J Ellis
Apr 14
5 min read

I never thought I'd be a small olive farmer. Since I can remember, I've dreamt of having a farm with animals, green pastures, and that classic old red barn. And I've lived on land most of my adult life—from 5 to 1400 acres—with big gardens and chickens but (never the big red barn.) I've been so fortunate to live in places with lots of room, expansive views, skies dripping with stars, and sunsets that take your breath away. And I was delighted when my friend and real estate agent (Amo Dove Vivo) found this sweet two-acre olive farm in Italy. It came with 40 olive trees, so suddenly I'm an olive farmer!

People have harvested olives for thousands of years, and the basic idea hasn't changed much: get the fruit off the tree without ruining it. In ancient times, people used their hands, long sticks, or wooden rakes to knock the olives down onto woven mats or the bare ground. Some farmers picked their fruit early for greener, sharper oil. Others waited until the olives were riper and darker, which gave a smoother mellower oil.

The Romans got a little more organized. They used ladders and nets and even had laws about when and how to harvest. Laborers—often enslaved people—did most of the work by hand.

Today, there are newer tools—battery-powered rakes and mechanical shakers. But it still comes down to the same thing: the weather, the bugs, and getting the olives in on time.

Hand held automatic rake. Big tool for a big harvest. The battery for the small rake.

Olive oil is like wine: each region produces different flavors, aromas, and texture. The fruit develops traits from the area, water, and soil composition.

Like wine, the region where the olives are grown plays a crucial part in the quality and flavor. The geography, varietal, and climate conditions, combined with centuries-old traditions, create the oil's unique attributes. Every bottle carries the essence of the soil, the sun, and even the wind that forms the olives each year. From bold and spicy to mild and buttery, Italy's olive oils are as diverse as its landscapes.

In Southern Italy, the oil is bold and vibrant.

In southern Italy—home to regions like Puglia, Calabria, and Sicily—the hot sun and arid conditions create bold flavors. These oils often have a peppery finish, a deep green hue, and an intense flavor profile thanks to their high polyphenol content. Their strong character shines through whether drizzled over grilled vegetables or with crusty bread.

Northern Italy produces delicate and smooth oil.

Regions like Liguria or parts of Tuscany produce olive oils with a softer touch. The cooler climate and frequent rainfall produce mild and delicate oils, often with fruity or buttery notes. Ligurian olive oil, for example, is ideal for pairing with lighter dishes, such as fresh fish or raw vegetables, without overpowering them.

Each region has its own long-lasting traditions and approach to harvesting and production. Some areas pick olives early for greener, more pungent oils, while others wait for riper fruit to create smoother profiles. The choice of olive variety—Coratina in Puglia or Taggiasca in Liguria—adds another layer of uniqueness.

Every bottle reflects its maker's artistry.

The trees on my farm include Leccino, Raggia, Raggiola, and Moraiolo.

The Leccino olive is a primary cultivar. Originally from Tuscany, the Leccino is now cultivated worldwide. It has a very delicate flavor, so it's commonly blended with Frantoio, Coratina, Moraiolo, and Pendolino.
The Raggia olive tree, or Leccio-Raggia, is a vigorous variety with an expanded growth shape. It is highly valued for producing high-quality olive oil and is one of the most cold-hardy olive tree varieties. It demonstrates good resistance to drought and strong winds but is sensitive to high humidity.
The Reggio Emilia olive tree is native to the province of Pesaro in Italy. It has a medium-sized fruit that produces a fruity extra virgin olive oil with slightly bitter and spicy notes. This variety is valued for its robust flavor and is ideal for cooking.
The Moraiolo olive tree, native to Tuscany and central Italy, is valued for its exceptional oil production and adaptability to hilly terrains. Its olives are small and ripen to a black-purple color, yielding high-quality extra virgin olive oil with fruity, bitter, and spicy notes. While the tree is self-sterile and requires pollinators like Pendolino or Frantoio, it thrives in mountain climates but is sensitive to extreme drought or humidity.

My oil is peppery with a big bite. It has a strong, olive-like aroma and a beautiful green color. Italians who taste my oil have said, "This is what olive oil should taste like." And as a friend said, "Leave it to an 'ol California girl to make some of the best olive oil in Italy." lol Of course, it's my trees, not me. I'm very proud of my trees.

Olive trees are everywhere in Italy, with countless old family orchards. I know several people, including my neighbors, with 100 trees or more. Some special and protected trees are thousands of years old. The oldest tree in Italy is believed to be 2,500 to 3,000 years old and lives in the northeastern area of Sardinia.

The Harvest

There are 40 trees on my farm, from 30 to 150 years old.

The olive harvest is in October. To gather the olives, we lay down giant nets and rake and shake the fruit from the branches using a small automatic rake that operates from a car battery. It takes three men a couple of days to harvest all the fruit. In some family farms, Nonna and Nonno help with the harvest. I know a man and his 84-year-old mother, with a few friends, harvest their 100 trees.

My first harvest in 2020 gave me 35 liters of oil. With no idea what a good harvest would be, it seemed 35 liters was a nice amount. It was enough for me to give a few liters to friends. In 2021, the yield increased to 80 liters, and I was thrilled. I also thought that would be about the limit of my trees.

Then, in 2022, Mario, my gardener, and I decided to harvest early because of the fly the dreaded olive fly that threatens to ruin all the fun and, more seriously, damage a whole industry. It was a good decision because it was the largest harvest yet. The crusher bought about half of the olives and walked out with 100 liters. I was stunned.

Nature is fickle

2023 was a fruitless year. It started out great. The trees were full of olives, and there was no sign of the fly. Then came the drought followed by the winds, and all the olives grew weak and were knocked to the ground. It was sad. No one I knew bothered to harvest. I tried to salvage some oil. The crush produced a mere 10 liters that year. With the cost of pruning and harvest, each liter came to about $75. I know my oil is good, but not that good.

Then, 2024 came along. Mario and his two guys, Alessandro and Herbe, worked hard for three days. My friend from California was visiting and also helped with the harvest. She was in charge of cleaning out leaves and twigs while I hauled the crates of olives up the hill in my SUV. Usually, we fill the small crates to take to the crusher, but there weren't enough, so we lined Mario's truck with a tarp and filled up the back. There were so many olives, and we didn't even touch four trees because we ran out of time. We picked up 220 liters of oil from the crusher. It sold out in one week. Everyone who bought some came back for more. That was fun.