From Sant’Agata to Mayfair: our olive oil

Two hundred trees

The grove is smaller than most London gardens. The family picks by hand in October and presses the same evening, so the oil reaches us green and peppery.

We use it raw, on bread and on the burrata. Never to fry, never to hide anything.

Visiting the grove is a lesson in how little is needed. The trees are old, gnarled and not especially productive, but their fruit is dense with flavour. The family prunes lightly, avoids fertiliser and leaves wild herbs growing underneath, which they say gives the oil its green, grassy character.

Good oil should be a little sharp at the back of the throat. If it is, it is fresh.

The harvest

Picking starts when the olives are barely ripe, just as they turn from green to violet. Families come back from the cities to help, and the grove fills with ladders and nets.

Everything is picked by hand, in a few days, and pressed within hours. The oil that results is thick, green and slightly bitter, the way the family prefers it.

The grove at harvest, early in the morning.

Back in London the oil is treated like a perishable ingredient, because it is one. The bottles are kept in a cool cupboard away from the stoves, and every few weeks a new batch is opened and tasted by the chef. Once it loses its sharpness, it is retired from the table.

Good oil is an ingredient, not a garnish. We use it raw on burrata, over grilled fish and in the final minute of a risotto, where its aroma is at its brightest.

Olives, minutes after picking.

The first oil of the season.

Cooks at Bordo are taught to use it with care. A spoonful over a bowl of soup, a thread over grilled bread, a few drops at the end of a risotto: each of these uses the oil to lift a dish, not to carry it. Used this way, a small bottle goes a long way.

Warm a little in your palm, smell it, then take a small sip and breathe in through the mouth. Fresh oil should be fruity, then bitter, then peppery at the back of the throat.

Guests sometimes ask why we do not simply buy a larger quantity from a bigger producer. The honest answer is that we would not enjoy it. Knowing the family, the trees and the harvest changes how it tastes, and that is worth more to us than any saving.

A small number of bottles are available at the restaurant for guests who would like to take some home. Keep it cool and dark, and use it within the year.

A tasting, with bread, on the pass.

We will visit again next harvest.