Is this magic? The vivid bitterness magic of olive oil!

What is this, magic? It's the first time I've encountered such a mysterious olive oil.
This was the voice in my heart after tasting "mimi ogliarola".
When tasting the oil alone, I was struck by its unique flavor.
First, it gives a mellowness to the tongue, then a vivid green aroma passes through the nose.
Then, I noticed a distinct bitterness, and a slight tingling sensation remained as it passed through my throat.
It is an olive oil with clearly defined characteristics.
As expected of the Frantoio (oil mill) of Olio Mimi in Italy, which is in the global spotlight, it is a taste that leaves a strong impression just by sampling the oil.

However, the surprise started here.
This characteristic bitterness.
This is just like "magic".
To think that depending on the ingredients paired with it, the bitterness changes its form freely and becomes a completely different taste.
Not only does the bitterness enhance the ingredients, but in some cases, the bitterness even disappears and other flavors emerge.
This is interesting!

In the first place, ever since I heard from Kimiko Asahara, the proprietress at Yamanaka Aburaten, that
"This is actually recommended for spring, too. The bitterness of this oil and the slight bitterness of mountain vegetables surprisingly go well together. It tastes even better when paired with things that have bitterness or astringency, like the bitterness of fish innards," I had been dying to try it to see what would happen.
The season for mountain vegetables, which herald the arrival of spring, is finally reaching its peak.
Now is the chance.

For now, I stopped by a freshly baked bread shop on my way home and bought a baguette.
This is because Mr. Habuchi, who let me taste it at Yamanaka Aburaten, said that it also goes well with the bitterness and wheat aroma of a well-toasted baguette.
Let's try this first.
In the refrigerator, I happened to have "Shukurai," also known as "spring-heralding vegetables," which I bought at the "Yamanaka Aburaten Marche*" the other day, and some shishamo (smelt) that I had bought as a snack for sake.
I also happened to have bitter melon chips, a representative of bitterness, so I immediately started the experiment.

First, I drizzled the ogliarola on a baguette that I had toasted until it was almost burnt to bring out the bitterness.
Huh?
The bitterness I felt so clearly earlier didn't reach my brain no matter how long I waited.
Instead, an unexpected, sweet temptation like a "reward" you feel when eating sweets came.
It's not sweet, but it is sweet-like.
It was so mysterious that I hurriedly took a second and third bite of the baguette.
It tastes somehow different, as if a chemical change had occurred.
I thought for a while about why I felt it was so "delicious".

When the savory aroma of the slightly bitter baguette overlaps with the bitterness of the ogliarola,
whether they clash or wrap around each other, it seems to change into a thick, deep richness and become umami.
The refreshing aroma reminiscent of green olive fruit and the wheat aroma of the baguette overlap again.
The spiciness disappears and gives an accent like a little condiment.
I feel like I'm eating a somewhat high-class, complex, non-sweet dessert.
To use an analogy, it might be playing a role similar to how bitter caramel sauce instantly enhances the appeal of pudding.

Having become completely amused, I next drizzled the oil on the shishamo.
This is amazing. The quite bitter taste of the innards became soft and rounded.
It seems like it would go well with both sake and wine.
How about bitter melon?
Yes, the bitterness remains, but the sharp edges are gone.
For the raw sliced Shukurai, the greenness of the vegetable and the green aroma of the ogliarola resonate with each other, giving the sensation of a salad dressed with dressing.

How would it change if heat were applied?
I quickly stir-fried Shukurai and bacon with ogliarola.

Even though I only added salt and pepper, it stands as a dish.
It became mild with heat, but the refreshing quality didn't fade.
A lightness that makes me feel like I could eat it forever.

Wow, this oil is really interesting!
It draws out the original umami of the ingredients, gives them depth, and exerts various effects depending on what it is paired with.

I want to try pairing it with more ingredients that have various personalities.
I'll go buy the mountain vegetables recommended by the proprietress right away.
It will surely take me to an unknown world.
Mimi Ogliarola.
I've encountered an amazing olive oil.


→Next time, I'll try spring dishes using ogliarola!

※The Yamanaka Aburaten Marche is a market full of delicious things held at the oil shop on the third Saturday of every month. I enjoy getting pesticide-free vegetables and such every time!
By the way, Shukurai is a spring vegetable also called Tsubomina, and it is a new sprout of a type of mustard green.

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