Has the Italian Mafia Sold You Fake Extra Virgin Olive Oil?

By Barbie Latza Nadeau

Seven of Italy’s top olive oil companies have been accused of selling some sullied extra-virgin olive oil, and it may be the result of the far-reaching agro-mafia.



ROME — Think about the last time you had really, really good extra-virgin olive oil. The kind of pungent oil that tickles the back of the throat and drips like green liquid gold from your crusty bread or lettuce leaves. You probably paid a small fortune for it. Sadly, if it was from Italy, it might not have been as virgin as you think.

This week, Italian prosecutors in Turin opened a criminal investigation into seven of the country’s top olive oil export companies: Carapelli, Bertolli, Santa Sabina, Coricelli, Sasso, Primadonna, and Antica Badia for allegedly cutting the good stuff with less precious oil.

After an Italian food blog broke the news that expensive oil being passed off as extra-virgin might be stained last May, Italian agriculture and customs started doing their own tests and found that in nine out of every 20 bottles these producers sold in country or exported out were tainted. Italy is the second largest olive oil producer in the world after Spain. But Italy is also the world’s largest importer of olive oils from Tunisia, Morocco, Greece, and Spain. They also import canola and soybean oil from abroad. Many producers happily admit to using the imported oil as a base for their lesser-quality and industrial oils, stating exactly where the oil originated in often miniscule print on the labels. And there is nothing illegal at all about it.



The problem—read fraud—comes from the fact that the companies under investigation are accused of importing canola and even soybean oil to mix into their expensive oil sold as extra-virgin. By law, extra-virgin has an acidity of no more than 0.8 grams per 100 grams of oil, and it must be made from the first press of the olives, which, if up to standards, commands a price tag that is often up to 35 percent more than other oil. If not, it should sell for much less—and say so on the label.



All of the Italian olive companies under criminal investigation deny any wrong-doing, citing faulty testing. Many have launched counterattacks, accusing authorities of fraud, which, in Italy, is not always a long shot. What’s troubling is that farmers and olive oil producers at the center of the investigation are being accused of cooperating with the so-called agro-mafia which is a catchall label often used in Italy for fraudulent behavior and corruption in the agriculture sector, which may or may not have anything to do with the country’s established organized crime syndicates. But it often does, and many organized crime syndicates’ tentacles reach into every facet of Italian life and livelihood.



“It is often difficult to understand the economic impact of agro-mafia but those who produce olive oil are increasingly in the crosshairs of professional counterfeiters,” says Domenico Pautasso, director of Italy’s national agriculture association Coldiretti. “The turnover of the agro-mafia exceeds €15.5 billion, and the entire system of false ‘made in Italy’ products exceeds €60 billion a year.”



In fact, the Italian Confederation of Agriculture estimates that there are 240 agro-mafia offenses every single day in the agriculture sector. That breaks down to eight crimes every hour, according to a report called “Agromafia” published last year. The report states that more than 350,000 farmers and producers are involved in the widespread fraud, that runs the gamut from faulty pasta to counterfeit cheeses and hams. Some of the farmers and producers are victims who sell their authentic products to producers who compromise their integrity for higher profits; others are knee-deep in the quagmire of corruption.



The Confederation of Agriculture estimates that of the illicit industry’s profits, some €4.5 billion is generated from blatant theft and robbery of authentic products from fields and warehouses. An estimated €3.5 billion of the dirty revenue comes from racketeering, and around €3 billion is generated from counterfeiting of the “made in Italy” brands.

Italian anti-mafia and anti-corruption authorities work tirelessly to try to stop the widespread practice that has been identified in every single province in Italy in one sector or another. In 2014, they confiscated more than 12,000 properties, including farmland and production facilities. “The presence of organized crime affects the entire system, from production to distribution,” says Pino Cornacchia, Head of the Confederation of Agriculture’s Campania Economic Development Department. “It is also a massive deterrent to all young people otherwise keen to invest in the primary sector.”

It is not the first time Italian olive oil has been tainted by scandal. In 2011, New York Times contributor Tom Mueller laid out the scandal in his book, Extra Virginity: The Sublime and Scandalous World of Olive Oil in which he reported that more than 50 percent of all olive oil imported into the United States is adulterated with lesser oils. “In the past, the technology that had been used had been used really by the Romans,” Mueller writes. “You grounded the olives with stone mills and you crushed them with presses.”

Everything has apparently been downhill since then.

So what is a lover of olive oil to do? “For those who buy it is important to pay attention to the label,” Alberto Martorelli of Coldiretti told The Daily Beast. “Make sure you only buy oil made with 100 percent olive oil produced and bottled in Italy if you want authenticity. And make sure it passes the smell test. It should smell and taste like raw olives.”

Related:
Italian olive oil scandal: seven top brands 'sold fake extra-virgin'

Extra virgin on the ridiculous: Italian olive oil producers accused of fraud

Italy's slippery 'extra virgin' olive oil scandal

[Source: The Daily Beast]

Categories: Italy, News, Olive

Climbing the Silver Giants—The Tuscan Olive Harvest

By Giordano Cellai

REGGELLO, Italy—The silver giants make you respect them just by their look. I approach a little fearfully. With a small rake in hand I’m ready to harvest their generous fruits. Yet, my confidence wavers in the presence of these mighty trees. Then I suddenly realise their grand arms that reach for the sky are actually welcoming me with a warm hug.


A man harvests olives on a farm in Reggello, near Florence, Italy. Tuscany's traditional olive farming is still alive, while the harvesting has hardly changed for centuries. (Erica Ermini/The Epoch Times)

My people of Reggello, a little town in the province of Florence, regard the harvesting of olives as something more than just producing olive oil. In the last 20 years, the market price of olive oil has not even covered the cost of maintaining the orchards, not to mention fertilizing, harvesting, and pressing the olives. Even so, hundreds of people roll up their sleeves and get ready to join the activities that have not changed for centuries—except for a few machines—and are repeated every November. Actually, just a few decades ago November was not yet olive harvest time.

Only recently, we discovered that the quality of the olive oil is much better if we harvest the olives before they’re completely ripe—while still on the trees—instead of collecting them from the ground. With this, there is also less worry about seeds taking root.

In the past, November and December were months that peasants were busy sowing winter cereals to be harvested the following summer. Everyone was busy with that and the new oil was produced in the new year.

Nowadays, not many young people are interested in climbing the trees to harvest olives. Our farm represents one of the few exceptions.

A man uses a little raker to brush off branches of an olive tree. (Erica Ermini/The Epoch Times)

Every year, young foreigners come to help out and they are always very pleasantly surprised. These young people are volunteers and take part in various volunteer programs related to helping the earth. They come to discover for themselves if it is really possible, in the 21st century, to thrive on the labor of their own two hands and live directly off the land. They help us with everything that needs to be done and we, in exchange, give them a place to stay and healthy food to eat, which we are happy to share with them.

I like to tell these young people that, in the past, the olive harvest usually took place during the coldest months of January and February. This makes them feel lucky already. In those months, most of the olives have already fallen to the ground. Women and children, who were responsible for picking, normally used little sticks to pick the olives up from the frozen soil. Some carried a “braciere” (a metal bucket holding embers). The harvesters would remove their wooden shoes and warm them up with embers to lessen the stinging cold of those months. Olives were collected in baskets woven out of chestnut, willow, and olive wood. Some of these baskets are still in use today as a testament to their strength and great craftsmanship.

How can we not be happy early in the morning when, with the sun rising over the hills, we climb into those welcoming arms? From this vantage point, you can contemplate the beautiful vista of the valley, looking like a slow, floating river in the morning fog. It feels like I’m flying over the clouds. After a few minutes, the chilly air gives way to the warming sun and reminds us of the power of summer. Woollen sweaters and shirts fly off and we happily continue to harvest in T-shirts. Nets and rakes share the orchard with stories and laughter. At the end of the day, as we store our olive boxes, I feel tired, but also very satisfied and full of a new energy.

Different kind of freshly harvest olives. (Erica Ermini/The Epoch Times)

During and after the world wars, parachutes were often found and peasants did what they do best—reuse and not waste anything. The parachutes became precious sheets that were opened right under the trees, allowing the farmers to collect the olives much more easily than with traditional hemp bags. Today, as materials have improved, harvesters use anti-thorn nets that are much stronger, and instead of picking the olives by hand, they use little rakes to ‘brush’ all the little branches of our good giants.

After the harvest, comes the celebration of the olive press, and the not-to-be-missed traditional “fettunta.” In that slice of toasted bread dipped into green oil, I find all the flavor of the ending season. This flavor takes me through the whole year. It’s difficult to imagine a meal without this precious ingredient. It would be like listening to a beautiful symphony with a pillow in front of the speakers.

The harvest is done and nets and baskets are packed way. Now, I just wait for winter to pass. Nature goes to sleep. Peasants sit by the fire, fixing tools and sharpening scissors, and await the start of the new season. March, in fact, is time to prune. This is the way it is here: seasons end and begin with olives.


Olive harvesters position anti-thorn nets under the trees to collect olives. (Erica Ermini/The Epoch Times)


Olive harvesters take out the leaves. (Erica Ermini/The Epoch Times)


Olives are washed. (Erica Ermini/The Epoch Times)


Fresh olive oil comes out of a press. (Erica Ermini/The Epoch Times)


Harvesters test the freshly pressed olive oil. (Erica Ermini/The Epoch Times)


The traditional “fettunta” is a slice of toasted bread dipped into green oil. (Erica Ermini/The Epoch Times)

Giordano Cellai, 35, has been farming for 6 years. He lives in Reggello, Florence, and enjoys recording and bringing to life Tuscany’s traditional farming culture that still endures today.

The young volunteers are there as part of the World Wide Opportunities on Organic Farms (WWOOF) network.

[Source: The Epoch Times]

Categories: Article, Italy, Olive

Harvesting olives in Italy

By Ling Poh

In Calamonaci, Sicily, Ling Poh Lean joins olive farmer Pietro at his farm

EVERY now and then, friends tell me that they are taking a year off to work abroad at a farm or orchard, just to gain different experiences and to get back to nature.

I wish I can do the same, but I simply cannot afford to take such a long time off, so a day working in an olive farm sounds irresistible.



I am at an olive farm in a little Italian village called Calamonaci — a 45-minute drive from Agrigento in Sicily — all ready to be an olive farmer for a day.

I step into the farm with my gear at 10am, thinking I am early, but the shy farm owner, 55-year-old Pietro, has already started work, with another worker since 7am!

As November usually brings rain to south Italy, Pietro says he can only pick olives when the land is not wet, which is why he has to start as early as he can.

Born and raised in a family that not only grows olive trees, but also grapes and oranges, Pietro has been working the farm for more than 40 years now.

He says olive farmers in Sicily collect the fruit from mid-October up to January, depending on the trees’ production.

Olive trees, he adds, are not hard to maintain as they require little water and just an annual trimming. Farmers will water them in summer, usually in August when Sicily is hot and dry.

Olive trees can live for centuries, but they only bear fruit once a year. The 160 trees that Pietro owns were planted in 1975.

TO PICK OR TO COMB?

Knowing nothing about olives picking, I thought I may need to cut my nails to avoid the sand or unwanted materials when I pick the fruit with bare hands.

a plastic Comb

But I am wrong. No bare hands are used. Picking olives requires a special tool called a “comb”.

Pickers simply “comb” the olive-laden branches. However, before the combing starts, the ground under the tree is covered with fishing net-like mats to catch the olives. The olives will then be transferred to a big container and sent to a factory.

The “combing” process sounds simple, but you can get hurt if it’s not done properly. My first few attempts to “comb” the branches were not good.

The fruit fell on my face and shoulders like stones. However, after a few painful experiences, I learn quickly to avoid the falling fruit.

On a normal day, Pietro and his helper are able to comb about 800kg olives. He says, usually two workers can “comb” 10 trees full of olives in a day and up to 20 trees if there are fewer fruit.

Today, Pietro has three additional workers (including me) and we successfully comb more than 20 heavily laden trees. But the few productive hours fail to indicate the pain I will expect on my hands and neck!

At lunch break, all of us take out lunch boxes. Mine has sandwiches and pizza. Farm workers bring their own lunch as farms are usually located far from shops and restaurants. And the lunch break is a short one as it is crucial to make the most of the time since picking season is short.

We take 45 minutes to finish and mind you, this is considered a long break!
As the farm is located outside the centre of Calamonasi, the harvest is transported to the factory in a small, rickety truck.

I sit in the back of the truck with the other workers while Pietro drives us to the village centre. The truck moves at a snail pace of 20km per hour and we only reach the centre some 20 minutes later.

However, the slow journey gives me a chance to take in the beautiful hilly landscapes — all covered with grapes, olives trees, orange trees and almond trees.

MILLING THE OLIVE

After a hard day’s work at the farm, Pietro takes me to a nearby factory to show me how oil is extracted from the olives that I have just picked.

Small farmers such as Pietro send their olives to “frantoio” (oil mill) such as this factory. Many sell the olives to frantoio, but Pietro prefers to have his own machines and produce his own olive oil. He tells me one kg of olives can produce about 1.08 litres of oil.

Basically there are four main steps to extract olives’ oil — washing, grinding, mixing and separating.

Fresh olives will first be washed and alien objects such as stems, leaves and twigs removed. Then, the clean olives are crushed into paste that will be mixed for 20-45 minutes to allow tiny oil droplets to combine with bigger ones.

Finally, a machine separates the oil from the paste. The special machine, Pietro says, is able to separate the oil, water and solids. The solids, he adds, will sometimes be further extracted at another factory to produce a lower quality olive oil.

Fresh olive oil, to my surprise, does not smell or taste like the one we buy from the supermarket. We get the strong aroma of green grass from a hundred metres away.

Fresh olive oil also tastes a little spicy. Pietro says most people will only use the oil after four to six months, during which time the spicy taste will slowly disappear.

LOOKING FOR A JOB

Looking for a day working tour in an olive farm in Italy is not as easy as those to vineyards since wine production is far more popular than olive oil.

Good thing about this unpopular demand is that you may not have to pay high price for the experience.

Pietro picking unwanted leaves from the olives.

In Italy, the top three regions that produce olive oil are Apulia, Sicily (both are in the south) and Tuscany in the north.

When planning for a trip to these regions, requests and inquiries should be made directly to travel agencies as most do not have the tour promotion in their brochures or websites.

In Agrigento, an olive picking day tour cost around 250 euros (RM990) for a group of four, which includes transport to the farm, olive picking with the farm owner, lunch and a trip to a nearby oil mill. This tour can easily be arranged with lodgings.

But those who wish to have a total experience living in an olive farm should opt for a stay in holiday farms producing grape, orange or olive.

You will be staying in a village-type lodging while farm owners will be your host. They will organise activities such as cooking classes, which usually include using fresh produce from the farm and other cultural exchange courses.

But for those who only wish to visit the oil mill, the three regions offer extensive choices of oil mill tours, which are mostly organised by hotels in the cities.
Apart from tours organised by agents or bed-and-breakfast owners, many farmers do welcome tourists to their farms.

Some even offer short-term accommodation (up to several months) and food in exchange for labour.

This exchange of work experience is growing rapidly in recent years with the increasing interest in agriculture among city dwellers. One of the websites that provides this exchange opportunity is www.workaway.info.

High quality extra virgin olive oil
THERE are various factors why Village Calamonaci only produces extra virgin olive oil. One of them is the fact that the olives are traditionally hand-picked.

Freshly picked olives under its tree.

Sicily region cultivates mostly biancolilla, carolea and nocellara olive trees, which generally don’t grow taller than three metres, making it easier for farmers to manually pick olives without using machines that may damage the fruit before the oil milling process. All the hand-picked olives are washed and ground within 48 hours in order to maintain its freshness.

Sicily’s hot and dry weather during summer with heavy rainfalls just before the start of the olive picking season, is also one of the contributing factors for farmers such as Pietro to get high quality fruit.

The oil must meet the strict chemical, taste and smell standards set by the International Olive Council which defines extra virgin olive oil as free from acidity, expressed as oleic acid of not more than 0.8g per 100g.

Fast Facts
• Italy is the second biggest olive oil producer in the world after Spain.
• About 10-14 per cent of Italy’s olive oil is produced in Sicily.
• Sicily is the third biggest olive oil producing region in Italy following Tuscany and Apulia.
• Calamonaci, a little village in Agrigento, Sicily, produces only extra virgin olive oil.

[Source: New Straits Times]

Categories: Italy, Malaysia, News

A day in the life of an olive oil virgin

By Dany Mitzman
Veneto, northern Italy



No olive oil you can buy will ever be as good as one you produce yourself.

Until this autumn, I was an olive oil virgin. I had had the posh stuff on salads and bruschettas, I had even spent a Christmas holiday selling it at a deli. But I had no real idea what authentic extra-virgin olive oil was for one simple reason - I had never made it.

Now I have. I had one of the most uplifting days of my life, taking fresh juicy olives from tree to bottle.

My American friend Ceil invited me to help harvest. She and her husband Erminio Cordioli own a hectare (2.5 acres) of land on the lush hills which rise up above Verona.

Erminio and his father planted most of the 350 olive trees when they bought the plot, abandoned and overgrown, 15 years ago.

Inside the olive grove, the nets laid out beneath the trees are slippery and I slide down the terraces on my behind, giggling.

Ceil has vetoed the use of noisy tree-shaking machinery. She prefers to harvest by hand, and I immediately appreciate why.

As soon as I touch my first olives, I feel a rush of excitement. They are simply beautiful - purple and green gems. It is like plucking jewels.

I discover that olive picking is the ideal rural job for a metropolitan princess.



Shaded by the trees, you do not get hot and sweaty. There is no bending or even stretching. You do not get your hands dirty.

And the best thing? You can chat on the job!

Ceil and I gossip in English while, a few trees away, Erminio and his brother-in-law banter in Veronese dialect, laughing constantly.

They are stripping the uppermost branches using rakes and a "pinza" - a simple yet brilliant gadget you drag down the branch like hair-straighteners.

The olives plop to the ground while the leaves remain intact.

I pluck and chuck with tireless zest. As we pick, Ceil explains her hopes to get a Protected Designation of Origin (PDO) certification for their oil.

To get a PDO, a product needs to be grown and processed in the region and conform to the highest quality standards at every stage.

"You have no idea how terrible uncertified oil can be," she sighs.

"Cheap olives get shipped in from anywhere, processed in Italy and labelled 'Italian extra virgin olive oil' - it's outrageous."

Obtaining a PDO is a complex, costly process of strict controls and overwhelming bureaucracy.

But if they get it, the Cordiolis will be able to market their oil as Veneto Valpolicella - renowned for its grassy, forest-fruits aroma and its sweet-spicy, green-almond flavour.

It is time to gather the nets and channel the olives into crates, before the next step of removing any stray twigs, leaves or damaged fruits.

We then load the crates into Erminio's van and drive down the hill to the olive mill.

On the road, Ceil calls the agronomist who has been advising them and monitoring their olives.

Orietta Pervan is the olive oracle. She is the leader of a tasting panel - the people who blind-sample every oil submitted.

There are 20 tests evaluating flavour, aroma and colour - and that's after going through all the chemical analyses.

The oleic-acid levels of the Cordioli oil are almost up to the required level, so Orietta is confident it will pass.

We pull up outside the olive mill and unload the crates. I am expecting rustic stone slabs and dubious levels of hygiene but it is state-of-the-art.

The olives are washed, then smashed, mashed and churned in hi-tech machines which ensure there is no contact with the air until the oil is extracted, to minimise oxidisation.

Each batch has the producer's name displayed on an electronic board alongside the current temperature - a maximum of 27C. It's the modern face of cold-pressing.

I peer into our olive incubator, churning 495kg (10cwt) of grey-green mush that will yield just 58 litres (12 gallons) of oil. Then the final stage to separate off the pulp and water.



At last the oil appears.

It trickles down a spout into a shiny silver basin with a syphoning hole in the bottom.

As the bright, greeny-gold river starts to flow, I stick my nose into the basin, inhaling the grassy scent - amazed and thrilled that I helped to make this.

Erminio and Ceil are whispering to the director, who disappears and returns with a litre bottle.

Erminio pops it under the syphon and Ceil hands it to me.

"Souvenir," she grins. "You've earned it."

[Source: BBC New Magazine]

Categories: Italy, News