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Scenes from Puglia, Puglia, Italy, Tasted on November 8-14, 2006 — Puglia (pronounced Pooleeyah) is located on the southeast coast of Italy - the heel of the boot as it were. I got to spend a week there courtesy of some folks from Puglia as well as Oldways. For me the week ended up being a series of little vignettes and observations. I'll share them (as well as 138 photos to document most of the details) here.

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First a word on the way these trips work. Every industry has something like this. When it comes to regions promoting their local products the region either directly (or through a partner in the target country) invites industry influentials for a visit. In the food industry influentials are typically chefs, nutritionists, food scientists, distributors, buyers, retailers, and of course... press (which for better or worse, bloggers are now considered). Typically in these situations the host makes it clear that there is no quid pro quo expected, and while they certainly have an agenda, ultimately they are trying to expose the visitors to the wonders of their locale. What opinion the visitor forms, and what they do with that opinion is completely up to them. And everyone I know personally who writes based on trips like these (or even just  free samples in the mail) always discloses that up front so there's no confusion. To me the question isn't whether the writer has been influenced. Of course they have. The question is whether the writer will be fair in their assessment. Now that disclosure is complete, I'll make my best effort on the fair part.

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Some background on my history with olive oil. Growing up, when my father cooked it was almost always Italian food from one specific cookbook. And he cooked with olive oil. Lots of it. Typically it was industrially produced olive oil, it said it was from Italy (but who knows where the olives came from), and it came in a huge square can with a spout. It had a slightly more interesting color than typical olive oil, but I don't recall any significant flavor over other standard cooking oils we used.

I lived in Israel for a year between high school and college and then again during my second year of college. I think it was really here that I first started to encounter olive oil outside of my dad's Italian cooking. Israel is right on the Mediterranean and has a healthy number of olive trees of its own. Olive oil is found everywhere, dressing chopped vegetable salads, and floating like a jeweled pool atop chummus spread out on a plate. One day while in college there I saw my Israeli Arab friends deep frying their falafel in olive oil.

My relationship with olive oil is long and more diverse than that of the typical American. That said, I still felt like a novice when it came to distinguishing between different olive oils. In fact, for the most part I felt that any olive oil that wasn't out of the middle east (Lebanon, Syria, or Israel) was relatively flavorless. These middle eastern oils were deeply flavorful. They actually tasted like, well, olives. I know not every ingredient in a dish needs to be individually distinguishable from the rest. But in any dish that I wanted to add olive oil, I wanted to be able to taste some impact in the final product.

It was finally a chef focused on Italian food that would finish many of his dishes with high quality Italian olive oil that showed me that the subtleties of the product were suited to dishes where its flavor could hang out in the background, and its texture could take center stage. I remembered back in high school in Boston, my favorite steak sub shop finishing their subs with a squirt of olive oil. It all came together for me. Armed with this only moderately dysfunctional history I left for Puglia.

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The week was packed. Seriously, they ran us ragged. If I was expecting a relaxing time on the coast, it was not to be. Lectures (with simultaneous translation which made us feel like we were in the U.N.), panels, meals, tastings, tours, and more tastings filled each day from first thing in the morning to late at night. I had my favorite moments, but the week not lacking for activity.

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I was surprised at how much the landscape, architecture, and archaeology reminded me of the coast of Israel. In retrospect it's not surprising as both geographies hug the Mediterranean. But the similarities still were striking.

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We were lucky that we got to spend time exploring some non-food attractions. While an artisanal prosciutto manufacturer giving out copious free samples would have added to my personal enjoyment of the Castel del Monte, I suppose it was still pretty cool even without some sort of ham related element.

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One thing I particularly enjoyed was getting to see everyone in the production chain of the oil throughout the week. We met growers, pickers, producers, bottlers, distributors, and importers. We even got to see a several hundred year old underground production facility (not in use anymore). Despite asking several hundred questions I have no idea how they got the millstone down there. The pickers were also good to meet as like just about every older Italian man we met on the trip they had an incredibly distinctive look - right out of central casting. One of our traveling companions also noted that the little Italian boys dressed like their grandfathers. Very cute.

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We stopped at one grower/producer who had purchased his own fancy title. The count (yes a count) had a pretty great spread including possibly the most dramatic spot we visited in Puglia - an underground wine cellar that upon entry felt like you were deep inside one of castles in Lord of the Rings. Super super cool.

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Moira Orfei posters haunted us everywhere we went in Bari. If my daughter had been on the trip she would have screamed as we passed them yelling "scary clown, scary clown". (Seriously, check out her site.)

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The food on the trip was pretty much out of control. Enormous meal after enormous meal treated us to what must have been almost the entire range of Pugliese specialties. It is very hard to cook well for 100 people at once. It is almost impossible to keep consistently high quality when serving multiple meals over the course fo a week for a group of 100 people. And sure enough some of the meals suffered from the need to scale. But two in particular were exceptional.

The first was the opening dinner. The conference gathered a series of accomplished chefs at our home base the Corte Bracco de Germani (which was gorgeous) who each did a course with three small items all based on olive oil of course. The courses included olive oil with: cheese, fruit, fish, meat, greens, legumes, fried items, pasta, dessert, and of course bread. I already am a fan of trying lots of things so the variety was great. But so many of the small items we got were well done that I really enjoyed the meal. If I had to choose one dish that stood out I would have to mention the fermented ricotta. I'd never had it before and it had an acidity and flavor that I found super enjoyable. I need to figure out how to find it stateside. Of course if there's one moment I'd rather forget it's spilling my wine all over myself and my neighbor. Luckily the wine came out of his jacket as well as my clothes. Maybe I was drunk from all the olive oil.

The other meal that blew us away was held at Masseria Barbera. We eventually figured out that a masseria is a "term used mainly in southern Italy, referring to a wine-producing farm or estate". I really do my best to focus exclusively on the flavor of the food to determine my impression of a meal. I work hard so that service, decor, environment, menu, and other influences remain at a minimum. And frankly, quantity of food almost never impacts my judgment, but the fact is that the amount of food at this "lunch" was so overwhelming that it couldn't help but be memorable. And to be clear, it's the amount of good food they served that overwhelmed us. I pride myself on documenting meals in detail but this simply wasn't possible unless I'd brought a staff of 2 others with me (at least). Frankly, I'd like to tell you about all the good dishes I had, but I know I couldn't have tasted them all.

Honestly, by the end of this extravaganza I felt like I knew what some of Henry the Eighth's meals were like. I had visions in my head of hundreds of sheep being slaughtered somewhere in preparation for day three of our orgiastic meal. That clearly would have led to good, old-fashioned sheep roasting. That said, in reality it the meal was only a few hours long (five?) but I started to get the sense of what days of eating would have felt like. I'll admit I am eager to get back there for a proper lunch.

Some highlights from our "spread" included: huge platters of cheese, pickled lampascioni, gorgeous sliced beets, cured meats, fresh mozarella, freshly made orechietti made by this adorable lady (who danced a jig for us later - no I'm not kidding), pickled onions, eggplant, zucchini, quiche, Romanesco cauliflower, mounds (and baskets) of fried goodness, savory sausages and other cooked innards, lamb chops, and plate after plate after plate of gorgeous sweet desserts. Oh... and of course, adorable cannolis.

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There were other superlative food moments. In between meals we would get various buffets and samplings prepared for us. Visiting olive oil grower and producer Giancarlo Ceci we were treated to a tasting of their olive oil and wines. It was simple antipasti, and as good as everything was, the thick cut ham in particular stood out for me (among the other meats, cheeses, olives, and wine). It was a local prosciutto (not from Parma). Aside from being beautifully cured with just the right amount of saltiness, it was cut thick. I guess here in the U.S. the stuff is so expensive that we cut it super thin to make it last. (Yes, I know it tastes good that way too.) But there was so much chewy goodness in each bite with the thick slices that it was a completely new (and delicious) experience.

We also had a great lunch at Ristorante il Melograno in Trani on our last day. The olive oil we had there was among the best I tried in Puglia and it came from Masseria Protomastro. I need to hunt it down.

Horse meat anyone? That's what this sauce was for.

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I did taste olive oil on the trip. Even with my new eagerness to expand my olive oil palate I had a hard time keeping things straight. Mostly I got an overall impression of grass, lightness, and fresh green tones. I admit that my palate is simply not developed enough when it comes to olive oil to give really fine grain impressions. That said, it was clear to me that some of the Pugliese olive oils we tasted would be contenders at the very least to be one of my finishing oils of choice.

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If I had one recommendation for future trips it would be more formal tastings. To be fair, we had lots of olive oil in many different circumstances each day. But it still was kind of haphazard. And by my rough count we only tasted about 20 different olive oils over the course of the week. Honestly I would have preferred to try about 50 different olive oils. I'd propose 10 a day in a more formal and consistent setting each morning before we got going. We could take notes and then decide which we liked the best. It also would have been nice to know which oils were actually available in which countries other than Italy. I know that some of the oils we tasted are not actually available in the U.S.

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On trips of most kinds, being far away with a bunch of strangers speeds up the process of getting to know each other. There was certainly no shortage of interesting and friendly people to meet from the group of folks that were present. That said, this trip was particularly fun as I got to spend my time with a bunch of people I'd only met on e-mail. Give Oldways credit for reaching out to the so-called "new media". Josh from The Food Section, Heidi from 101 Cookbooks, and Nicole and Oliver from Delicious Days were all there. Rounding out our little coffee klatch were also two freelancers Matt and Harris. As much as I liked the trip, I found it way more enjoyable because I got to spend it with these folks, no longer just e-mail addresses. I'm pretty sure the Oldways folks found us to be slightly more "boisterous" than their historical invitees, but hopefully that energy is considered a good thing. :)

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Perhaps the most impactful aspect of the week for me was the impression I got from the local folks who put on the event. When you drive around Puglia (which we did extensively in our buses), there are some grapes, figs, and all manner of food that grows, but the place is lousy with olive groves. Everywhere you went there were olive trees. Some were hundreds of years old with enormous thick gnarled trunks.

Whether it was the head of the local city council, the organizer of the local olive council, (our friend) the local count that grows his own olives and produces his own olive oil, or the myriad other folks we met with, all these people are deeply connected with and (maybe more importantly) deeply dependent on a single natural resource - the olive. Granted we spent time with the olive folks, and there are clearly other industries (fishing for example) in the area. But olives and olive oil specifically permeated everything. Not just the food. These people had placed their bet. All in. On one tree. Maybe if I'd grown up in an agricultural community that specialized I wouldn't find this such an interesting experience. But for me, betting the livelihood of your region, your family, yourself, on a tree is pretty gutsy.

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And that's fundamentally the challenge for the local olive economy. I spent as much time as I could on the trip tasting the products of the region, I couldn't help but think about their situation from a business perspective. Large corporations dominate the market for olive oil. And while significant time was spent discussing growing that market, I think it's likely that with a larger market, the lion's share of the growth will accrue to the already big players. Ultimately that leaves the Pugliese producers to focus on quality. The really have no choice. And hopefully as the market grows, the number of people that want a quality olive oil will grow as well.

But defining quality is difficult especially when the rules for talking to customers vary widely. Anyone can bring in crappy olives across the border into Italy and declare it "made in Italy". I claim most consumers are already past their tolerance for details just looking for olive oil that's Italian. Trying to determine what region it's from, whether it's certified by the local D.O.P., what varietals went into it, etc. are beyond the resources of most people. Just getting them to look for "extra virgin" is probably the best one can hope for.

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I'm not sure it matters whether it's courage or necessity driving this community to try and make a name for their region. Likely it's both. And regardless of the impetus, I'm pretty certain they will persevere until they do.

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P.S. More impressions from the trip at:

• Delicious Days

• "He Ate Well"

• The Food Section

• 101 Cookbooks

P.P.S. Give me some time to report on an olive oil tasting back in Seattle. Consider it the follow-up to my trip to Puglia.