Luca, forgive me, I cannot resist: “So’ greche!!” 🤣 If you’ve never seen it, check the Carlo Verdone movie “Borotalco”; the actor Mario Brega is the one that speaks that line.
Olives are insane. I think it must have to do with the oil content. Maybe some sort of extraction is happening all the time. Luca, you're the expert. Tell us. They're not only intoxicating to smell, but some varieties, depending especially on how they are brined or cured, taste and feel as substantial as cheese or salami when drinking wine. Olives can be downright meaty.
I'm a fermented food fan. How could we recreate these? I wonder if regular store-bought (already fermented) green kalamata olives would be susceptible to a second fermentation with a starter culture? Anyone out there got any experience?
Enjoy your olives because tomorrow they will smell different. Now we know what is inside Luca Turin‘s brain. The key point is this: the nose does not identify molecules one by one. It recognizes patterns. When a fermented olive batch contains the right balance of phenols, aldehydes, ketones, esters, acids, terpenoids, and norisoprenoids, your brain can map that cloud of volatiles onto familiar perfumery categories like suede, oud, smoky wood, animalic ambergris, or leather.
Today I had some zaru soba in one of those little just-good-enough sushi places that are all over Manhattan, and for some reason it smelled more convincingly of leather (while still being delicious!) than any fragrance I know.
(For the record, I don't demand verisimilitude from leathers—floral and peachy and soapy is fine by me!)
The variety of the olives is crucial along fermentation method. Usually it happens in a bath of olive, vinegar, garlic and different herbs. Endless variations and many keep them secret. A small tip for olive oil: Always buy extra virgin olive oil that has a greenish hue and a bitterness that bites you on the throat!!! This is the proper one. One tip: Fill a glass vial with olive oil and put inside a good amount of fennel. Quite an easy upgrade!
Intriguing indeed. Once, a hidden grapefruit was rotting in a cup-what I smelled in the room was like brined olives. And it reminded me of a funky note in some of Christine Nagel's works (like Archives 69 and Theorema). Perhaps Nagel should smell your olives to get inspiration, though I doubt the Hermes folks would let her go away with it.
Luca, forgive me, I cannot resist: “So’ greche!!” 🤣 If you’ve never seen it, check the Carlo Verdone movie “Borotalco”; the actor Mario Brega is the one that speaks that line.
Will do! 🤣
I might have to take you up on that, not least because I would then be able to say, 'To others he sent vintage Diorella! To me he sent two olives!'
Ok three…
Olives are insane. I think it must have to do with the oil content. Maybe some sort of extraction is happening all the time. Luca, you're the expert. Tell us. They're not only intoxicating to smell, but some varieties, depending especially on how they are brined or cured, taste and feel as substantial as cheese or salami when drinking wine. Olives can be downright meaty.
I'm a fermented food fan. How could we recreate these? I wonder if regular store-bought (already fermented) green kalamata olives would be susceptible to a second fermentation with a starter culture? Anyone out there got any experience?
I somehow doubt it. I’ve simply never tasted anything like this ever before.
I must have some! Surely someone in London must have them?
I can send you a couple when I get home tomorrow!
Enjoy your olives because tomorrow they will smell different. Now we know what is inside Luca Turin‘s brain. The key point is this: the nose does not identify molecules one by one. It recognizes patterns. When a fermented olive batch contains the right balance of phenols, aldehydes, ketones, esters, acids, terpenoids, and norisoprenoids, your brain can map that cloud of volatiles onto familiar perfumery categories like suede, oud, smoky wood, animalic ambergris, or leather.
Today I had some zaru soba in one of those little just-good-enough sushi places that are all over Manhattan, and for some reason it smelled more convincingly of leather (while still being delicious!) than any fragrance I know.
(For the record, I don't demand verisimilitude from leathers—floral and peachy and soapy is fine by me!)
The variety of the olives is crucial along fermentation method. Usually it happens in a bath of olive, vinegar, garlic and different herbs. Endless variations and many keep them secret. A small tip for olive oil: Always buy extra virgin olive oil that has a greenish hue and a bitterness that bites you on the throat!!! This is the proper one. One tip: Fill a glass vial with olive oil and put inside a good amount of fennel. Quite an easy upgrade!
Intriguing indeed. Once, a hidden grapefruit was rotting in a cup-what I smelled in the room was like brined olives. And it reminded me of a funky note in some of Christine Nagel's works (like Archives 69 and Theorema). Perhaps Nagel should smell your olives to get inspiration, though I doubt the Hermes folks would let her go away with it.