gsganzer
Elite Member
- Joined
- Jun 11, 2003
- Messages
- 3,102
- Location
- Denton, TX
- Tractor
- L3800 w/FEL and BH77, BX 2200 w/FEL and MMM
Today I poured out the last of Rox's "Mas de Bories" AOC olive oil. Ok, to be honest, I still have the can propped upside down over a bowl, hoping another drop or two can be coaxed out. I've been savoring it, only using it for special dishes, special guests, drawing out the time when this day would come. Rox's oil was something that always made me smile when I picked it up and used it in a special dish, because I knew it's story, the toils it took to make it to my pantry, the joy it brought to Rox and her husband.
I always enjoyed reading stories of Rox and her husband's projects and efforts at their olive grove in France. The old tractor, pruning the tree's, harvesting the olives, taking them to the moulin, seeing many things being done the way they've been done for centuries or generations. It sounded like a labor of love and shed light on an agricultural product that I had earlier just passed off as a culinary staple with no personality. Then Rox tutored us on the different varietals, the flavors, characteristics and suggested pairings and uses. Aglandeau and AOC landing as my varietal favorites and I bought them over and over. I remember Rox attaching a small 1 ounce tasting cup to each package, so you could taste olive oil in its naked form, unadulterated.
I remember the first time I tasted it, the taste of fresh cut green grass, the unexpected peppery and spicy finish, the feeling that I'm tasting something special. Good olive oil was no longer that tasteless mass-produced oil with the well-known name on my purveyor's shelf that I added to my dish as the recipe called for. Instantly I learned olive oil from a craftsman has a personality, it makes a contribution to a dish, it has a soul. I no longer look at olive oil the same.
I remember Rox sending us North Texans a can of oil to share at one of our TBN gatherings years ago. Sharing with her TBN family the passion of her labor and opening our world to olive oil from a craftsman.
My wife and I were in Spain in November and drank homemade wine, paired with homemade bread and chorizo in a little olive grove, the olives overhanging our heads, ripe for picking. Today, I bought a 2.5L tin of olive oil from Spain. Maybe its maker shares the same stories and experiences of Rox and her husband. Maybe these same olives were the ones hanging over our heads as we sat in the grove looking up at the mountains we climbed the day before, sipping wine and making memories in Spain.
Thanks Rox, for sharing part of your life through your stories, photo's and that little sipping cup packed with every shipment. Some of us will never look at olive oil the same.
I always enjoyed reading stories of Rox and her husband's projects and efforts at their olive grove in France. The old tractor, pruning the tree's, harvesting the olives, taking them to the moulin, seeing many things being done the way they've been done for centuries or generations. It sounded like a labor of love and shed light on an agricultural product that I had earlier just passed off as a culinary staple with no personality. Then Rox tutored us on the different varietals, the flavors, characteristics and suggested pairings and uses. Aglandeau and AOC landing as my varietal favorites and I bought them over and over. I remember Rox attaching a small 1 ounce tasting cup to each package, so you could taste olive oil in its naked form, unadulterated.
I remember the first time I tasted it, the taste of fresh cut green grass, the unexpected peppery and spicy finish, the feeling that I'm tasting something special. Good olive oil was no longer that tasteless mass-produced oil with the well-known name on my purveyor's shelf that I added to my dish as the recipe called for. Instantly I learned olive oil from a craftsman has a personality, it makes a contribution to a dish, it has a soul. I no longer look at olive oil the same.
I remember Rox sending us North Texans a can of oil to share at one of our TBN gatherings years ago. Sharing with her TBN family the passion of her labor and opening our world to olive oil from a craftsman.
My wife and I were in Spain in November and drank homemade wine, paired with homemade bread and chorizo in a little olive grove, the olives overhanging our heads, ripe for picking. Today, I bought a 2.5L tin of olive oil from Spain. Maybe its maker shares the same stories and experiences of Rox and her husband. Maybe these same olives were the ones hanging over our heads as we sat in the grove looking up at the mountains we climbed the day before, sipping wine and making memories in Spain.
Thanks Rox, for sharing part of your life through your stories, photo's and that little sipping cup packed with every shipment. Some of us will never look at olive oil the same.
Last edited:
