On October 31, the olive trees gave us a reason to gather.

The day was bright and sunny, with a north wind that kept the air crisp. Fifteen family members and friends came to help, and from nine in the morning until two in the afternoon they picked the olives by hand, one by one, from our forty trees.

By the end of the day, we had gathered 86 kilos. It is less than last year, and we do not pretend otherwise. But the quality was excellent.

Then came the mill, and the part of the story that always makes us smile.

Other growers arrive with tons of olives. We arrive with fewer than a hundred kilos. And yet the owner of the mill, a kind and good-humoured man, always finds a slot for us. When he sees us coming, he smiles, because he admires our tenacity. 

Hospitality, here, is not only a thing for guests; it is part of how the people around Poggio treat one another.

The oil is ready now: ten litres. It is a modest amount, and we cherish it for what went into it: the long morning, the care of many hands, and the generosity of the people who made room for us.

That is what the brucatura means to us. The olive trees are part of Poggio, and the harvest reminds us that this is a place to be shared, not simply admired.

We will taste the first oil at the table, with the people who helped to make it.

Until next year.