Olives so good I could eat 'em. Kind-of.

It’s been eight weeks since I plucked my olives from the backyard tree and placed them in brine for fermentation. Well, I’m sad to report that the final product didn’t quite turn out as I had envisioned. Although the step-by-step process of fermenting olives is rather simple, a perfect balancing act of chemicals and environment is necessary for them to end up as the plump shiny fruit you see sitting behind the deli counter. It’s easier to blame my failure on science rather than the possibility that I made some fatal amateur mistakes.

Early into the process I was exposed to the vulnerabilities of olive fermentation. At the end of week one I headed out to the garage for the first check-up. I was immediately deflated when I discovered that white spots had started to develop on most of the olives. I consulted with my local olive expert who diagnosed mould over the phone but reassured me that mould growth is rather common and the cure is a rinse in fresh water and a new batch of brine. After dissecting a couple olives and doing a bit of research I discovered that it couldn’t be mould as mould would grow on the surface and I wasn’t dealing with spots or surface growth but with a loss in pigmentation making my olives look pale and unattractive.

I decided to keep on with the process to see what evolved and in the meantime I’d do some research. As the weeks went by the loss of pigmentation spread but I continued forward refreshing the brine occasionally. After about four weeks they started to smell like olives (a good sign) but I wasn’t quite ready to give them a taste test.

By week seven I was ready to risk my health and send one down the hatch. I probably should have offered Bronson the opportunity to be my guinea pig but I’m not that patient or cruel. He’s already had one adverse olive experience. Besides, I figured if it was lethal, surely I would have come across something in my research that said “do not eat olives if they change color or you will die.” The good news is they tasted like olives, albeit very salty olives and I’ve survived with no problems thus far. I decided to give them a fresh batch of brine and let them stew for one more week and on Saturday I vacated them from their home for the past eight weeks and put them in a large bowl of fresh water to sit in the fridge for a day before preserving in oil and garlic.

I wish I could tell you that a clear diagnosis has been made but after doing research at the world’s largest library, google.com, I have yet to come up with a final conclusion. One site alluded to the fruit turning white from the salt leaching into its body. Yeast colonies are a common pest however, the yeast appears as bumps on the surface and I’d already determined that it was a change in color and not a growth. I think. Even if it is yeast, the experts on google.com have assured me that the olives are still safe to eat.

But one possibility appears more likely than the rest. I used iodized salt, and after the fact, I learned on a handful of sites that you are not to use iodized salt. In fact iodized salt should not be used when brining any type of food. I also think I may have left them in the brine too long, further adding to the salty flavor. The smaller the container the shorter the fermentation period and I probably didn’t need eight weeks. Both rookie mistakes.

I was recently told that when Bikram Choudhury, the founder of Bikram Yoga, makes a mistake he says “excuse me for living.” So live and learn I shall. I’ll do some proper research between now and next autumn and hopefully next year I’ll have beautiful olives so I can fulfill my fantasy of lounging on the sofa eating my own homegrown olives. I’m not completely giving up on this year’s crop. I plan to let them sit in oil for a while and put them to use as a tapenade. However, I don’t think I’ll be giving them out as Christmas presents this year.