
This is the oil we put on our own table, and the one by which we ask to be judged. The Organic Extra Virgin Olive Oil is the flagship of the Olive Father range: certified organic, single-source, and pressed from olives grown in one Calabrian grove we know tree by tree. Nothing is blended in. Nothing is bought on the spot market to stretch a thin year. What reaches the bottle is exactly what the season gave us — which is why no two harvests taste perfectly identical, and why we would not want them to.
One grove, in San Procopio
The olives come from a single hillside above San Procopio, in the province of Reggio Calabria, where the Posterino family has farmed for six generations. It is not a large property and it was never meant to be. The trees sit high enough to catch the sea wind coming off the Tyrrhenian, which keeps the fruit fly pressure down and the nights cool through September — cool nights are what preserve the aromatic compounds that a hot, still grove burns off before picking day.
Because it is one grove, we can tell you the harvest date, the cultivars, the mill and the lot. Most oil on an American shelf cannot make that claim, and the reason is structural rather than sinister: it is assembled from many origins to hit a price and a volume. Ours is the opposite bargain, and you can follow it back through our single source and traceability ledger.
Certified organic — and honest about what that means
Organic here is not a sticker bought to decorate a label. The grove has been farmed this way for generations — no synthetic pesticides, no chemical fertilisers, cover crops and wild herbs left alive under the trees — and the European certification simply formalised what the family already practised. The soil is the point: living soil holds water through a Calabrian August, and trees that are not pushed to over-produce put their energy into fruit quality rather than fruit quantity.
That discipline shows up in the glass as a higher natural polyphenol load — the antioxidant compounds that make good oil taste alive, give it its bite, and let it age without going flat. Our note on polyphenols and why they count explains the chemistry; our organic and sustainability page explains the farming.
Picked early, pressed cold, in hours not days
We harvest at invaiatura — the turn, when the fruit is shifting from green to purple. Picking then costs us yield, because a green olive holds less oil than a ripe one. What it buys is everything that matters: lower free acidity, more polyphenols, and the green, grassy, artichoke character that disappears the longer fruit hangs on the tree.
From the tree, the fruit goes to the mill the same day and is crushed cold — malaxation kept under 27°C, oil separated by centrifuge, no heat and no solvents anywhere in the process. Every hour between picking and pressing is an hour the fruit spends fermenting against itself, and fermentation is what free acidity actually measures. The full sequence is laid out in from grove to bottle.
How it tastes
A true extra virgin must show three things, and this oil shows all three clearly.
- Fruity on the nose — green and immediate, with cut grass, artichoke heart and a whisper of tomato leaf rising the moment it is poured.
- Bitter across the middle of the palate — the clean, appetising bitterness of early fruit, in the same register as radicchio or a properly pulled espresso.
- Pungent on the finish — that peppery catch at the back of the throat that tasting panels literally count coughs over, and that survives only where the polyphenols are intact.
Bitter and pungent are not defects. They are the signature of oil made properly, and they are the first two things refining strips away — which is precisely why supermarket oil so often tastes of nothing at all. If this vocabulary is new, our guide to tasting olive oil walks you through the ritual spoonful by spoonful.
At the table
This is a finishing oil first. Pour it raw over grilled fish, white beans, bruschetta, burrata or a plate of bitter greens and let it lead. It lifts a plain bean soup into something you remember, dresses a July tomato without apology, and turns ricotta and cracked pepper into a first course. You can absolutely cook with it — a well-made extra virgin holds heat far better than the smoke-point myth suggests — but its highest use is uncooked, where every note is on show.
The details
- Origin: one named grove, San Procopio, Calabria — single source, fully traceable to lot
- Certification: certified organic
- Grade: extra virgin — cold-extracted within hours of picking, low free acidity
- Harvest: early, at invaiatura
- Profile: fruity, bitter, pungent — balanced, with a peppery finish
- Formats: 250 ml, 500 ml and 750 ml dark glass
Why dark glass, and which size
Every bottle is dark glass for one reason: light is the fastest enemy of fresh oil, faster than heat and far faster than time. A clear bottle under a shop light is a slow-motion accident, and we will not let beautiful packaging undo a careful harvest.
The 250 ml is the way to try it or give it. The 500 ml is the everyday hero. The 750 ml is for the household that reaches for good oil daily and refuses to run out mid-week. Whichever arrives, keep it cool, keep it closed, and use it generously — olive oil is a fresh juice, not a cellar wine, and the worst thing you can do to a good bottle is save it.
Taste it against what is in your cupboard
We do not ask anyone to take this on faith. Buy one bottle, pour a spoonful of ours and a spoonful of whatever you currently own, and taste them back to back at room temperature. If ours does not make the other one taste flat, we have not done our job. If you want to know what you are likely comparing it against first, read why not supermarket olive oil, or browse the rest of the range.