
Note: I wrote this post in the fall of 2021, but it’s olive season again here in my part of Portugal and I am out picking olives with many of my neighbors. I love the way people follow the seasons, performing the age-old tasks that bring them together. Portuguese olive oil isn’t well known in the US or Britain, but it is superb, and in my little corner of Portugal, it is made with love.
October in my part of Portugal means Olives. This year the trillion or so olive trees that cover the hillsides and valleys around my village are loaded with olives. Great news for all my neighbors because last year there was nary an olive to be harvested.
I too have become obsessed with these little nuggets that yield valuable oil and tasty treats. I only have two trees on my land but the amount of olives hanging on those branches convinced me they needed harvesting. I made an agreement with one set of neighbors, to bring my olives over to their place. They have enough trees to yield the 400 kilos of olives to warrant their own pressing at the local “lager” or olive press. This means, they can make an appointment to bring their harvest and get the oil from their very own olives.
If you don’t have a big enough yield for your own pressing, you just take them along to the lager and they get mixed in with others. The oil you get is a mixture of your own olives and that from everyone else.
Olive picking in some parts of Portugal is highly mechanised. But here in the central part of the country, it is still a very labor intensive job, done by hand. It’s an opportunity for friends and neighbors to come together and spend a few hours or days working at this basic task.
First you spread out a huge green net to catch the fruit. Then, someone goes up the ladder into the tree, cuts branches and tosses them down to the picking crew on the ground. You can strip the olives from the branch either by hand or a small plastic rake. Once the tree is picked clean, the crew gathers up the big green net and dumps the olives into a large plastic bucket. It reminded me of documentaries I’ve seen about fishermen collecting their catch in the old days.
This year, my Belgian neighbors helped me pick, I also helped some British friends and neighbors pick and clean their olives. It’s a community affair and I love it!



The next step is to run the harvested olives through a machine called a “Lena” (leena) to remove any remaining twigs and stems. It’s basically a big drum with a hopper on top, a shaker mechanism and a fan that blows the cleaned olives through to a chute where they drop into a big bucket. The cleaned olives are then stored in heavy plastic backs until they can be taken to the olive press.



































