A date with breakfast centers around my olive preparation. The week’s olives are place in a deep ramekin saturated with olive oil, sprinkled with oregano, chili flakes and the juice of half a lemon. A breakfast without olives is like a kebab without the meat, it just doesn’t happen.
This mornings olive preparation gets me thinking about this small oval entity of favorable flavor. I study their glossy gourmet image, wondering if their appeal could really get any better. How good can an olive get? Do I have ‘my’ olive that I shelter myself with it’s familiarity? Am I open and understanding to new and different olives in my life? What if there is a better olive for me? Would I feel comfortable being a serial ‘olivizer’, changing my olive type from week to week, or constantly seeking that perfect olive but never succeeding because I just don’t know what I want out of an olive?
I steer my mental energies back to the less dramatic, more impersonal question of: What makes the perfect olive? Figuring that one can’t claim theirs as being the best without extensive experience, I set out on a hunt for the perfect olive.
First stop Kadiköy, olive central. Off the ferry and up the hill into Kadiköy’s bustling market place, Balık Pazarı, I collide with a number of Şarküteriler (Deli’s), tightly positioned amongst the clamorous competition of vocal advertisements between the fish and vegetable sellers. Here, my little olive heart flutters and my piped pupils bulge at the site of glistening mountains of small salty heaven.
Ecevitler 2 breaks me into optimism with its gentle beckoning owner, Nural, reaching out his miniature olive shovel for my tasting pleasure. An Ecevitler Zeytin rolls on my tongue and I gently chew its salty plump meat off its tiny pip and focus on the task ahead of me. There are at least 10 different olives at this particular Şarküteriler and every one of them needs to be tried, tasted and tested before I move on to exhibit B. Pallet ready and pen in hand I work my way through the list, beginning with the black. The Sele olives are the most common, generally small, wrinkle skinned olives that grace almost every breakfast table. These are hand picked, salted and kept in Sele bags with oregano and bay leaves. Once fully seasoned, the salt is taken away and sold without being washed. Nural’s sele olive is Az Tuzlu Yağlı Zeytin (with oil and a little salt) a small but tender oily number that would suit any humble breakfast plate.
Moving onto his more specialised olives, Nural continues to explain that most of the world’s table olives are produced in Gemlik, a Marmara sea town close to Bursa. The region and climate is perfect for growing thin-skinned, small piped meaty olives. He proudly offer’s me a Süper Lüx Gemlik Zeytin, crimson, plump and slightly peppery it somehow doesn’t quite live up to it’s Süper lüx price tag, the Lüx Gemlik not fairing so well either with its slightly off taste, while the Gemlik Kıvırcık excretes a not too salty, fleshy, almost rosy undertone of flavor that melts in my mouth. Lesson 1: don’t be fooled by ‘Lüx’ labels.
Onto ‘greener’ pastures, I study the Duble Naturel Çizik (double natural), Özel Natural Çizik (special natural), and the Normal Çizik (um... normal). Çizik (to dash) refers to the slight cut given to green olives, releasing its bitterness before the salting process. Quietly curious about the difference between ‘naturals’ I wonder if there is a ‘super natural’ flavor I am yet to experience.... All preserved in lemon juice and oil their flesh has a crisp texture with the citrus influence adding an extra zesty tang. Like the label states, the Özel Natural Çizik despite its larger pip has, again, a subtle rosy undertone revealing how ‘special’ is really is. Then of course, you have the Biberli (with pepper/capsicum), an all time favorite that replaces the pip with a slither of pepper allowing it to slide down effortlessly sparing oneself of the not so favorable pip spit.
As I move on to the surrounding Şarküteriler a few more specialties stick out among the standard selection; I found the Bodrum Çizik a green olive with a purple tinge that is saltier than most of its fellow Çizik’s, hailing from the Aegean coast of Bodrum and Izmir. Further down the market are some gourmet green’s such as the Domat Çizik, a corpulent olive drenched in lemon oil and the Ayvalık Domat Kırma Zeytin another beefy green preserved in herbal lemon dressing, a rather gourmet touch I thought. Finally, in between a toothless fish seller and tonsil inflated fruit seller I discovered the smallest Sele olive known to mankind, the Kuru Sele Zeytin with its dryness not undermining its salty, full flavor.
Although Kadiköy has the tightest handle on all things olive, I kept with the theme of being open about my hunt and made the journey the Eminönü, home of all things spicy. Just to the left of Mısır Çarşısı (spice bazaar) is a stretch of specialized deli stores. All have their specialty, be it, pastırma, cheese or nuts and of course olives. Screaming out at me, amoungst these Turkish delights was Tat Gıda ve Şarküteri, here olives are sold in cheap abundance by zeytin gözlu (olive eyed) sellers. The insane variety included obese purple Kalamata’s that resembled over grown thumbs, which unfortunately only appetised my eyes rather than my pallet with its strange fishy essence. The Bademli olive’s tantalized with their crunchy texture and slither of sweetness in the center, while the Süper Umurbey Zeytin sent it’s blessing with its moist flesh falling off it’s petite pips. But the most unique of the olive family had been tampered with, the Portakallı Zeytin a green and pitted olive with a slice of orange wedged in its center. These, I’m guessing, would only be fit for those chocolate orange eaters, you either love it or you don’t.
So, after enough taste bud abuse from a severe salt overdose I decided it was time for a verdict. From trying at least 30 olives, the criteria was clear: Plump and moist, thin-skinned, slightly sweet and gently dented with a soft texture. The Ecevitler’s Gemlik Kıvırcık with its rosy aroma and fleshy, soft meat out did its black competitors and in green land the Ayvalık Domat Kırma Zeytin brought it home with its herbal halation and lemon zest. Countless olives tried their best at impressing my pallet, the one thing that came clear to me is however; never judge an olive by its image
