Tartines au Pain d’Oliverie (Provençal hors d’œuvres)

Tartines au Pain d’Oliverie
Olive Oil Cake Hors d’œuvres



When I was a child, my family would often spend a good part of the summer in Provence on my uncle’s farm in the village of Sabouneto, as the local old-timers would say in Provençal, or Savonnette, as the town is known to speakers of standard French. And at least a few times, when we had for one reason or another missed our chance to go to Provence in the summer, we managed to visit Uncle Massimo in late November, around Thanksgiving time for Americans but, more importantly, in the season of the olive harvest in Provence and the two-week long celebration of Savonnette’s festo d’oli d’olivo de Sabouneto, the festival of Savonnette’s olive oil.

Provence is a wonderful place for children of all ages, as they say, but for kids around 8 or 10 years old, it’s quite magical. In our uncle’s olive groves, we would play various ‘war’ games with our wooden bolt-action toy rifles and meat hooks and, when we tired of that, we could sneak off to the wild and naturally wooded hill beyond the old spring-fed well, where we would catch and immolate or crucify all manner of small and unfortunate creatures. Our Roman heritage was always nigh at hand.

Uncle Massimo was, of course, like us, not a native Provençal but an Italian, from the province of Frosinone in Lazio. As a young man, he had worked in the local olive oil industry and eventually he made a name for himself and also a good bit of money. His fortune was based on his invention of a process by which some of the lowest grades of chemically extracted oil could be purified and rendered not just edible but actually reasonably tasty. That invention landed him a job with one of the largest olive oil cooperatives in Tuscany. But when the chance arose for him to buy an old farm in Provence with its own groves and a still functioning medieval oliverie, an olive oil making facility, he decided to leave Italy and the rat-race of large-scale commercial production and return to the old-fashioned, artisanal ways of the past.

The cuisine of Savonnette and all the region in the hills behind Marseille is in effect the classic Mediterranean diet: heavily oriented toward olive oil and olives, lots of fresh vegetables, some fish, some game, and a smattering of dairy and meat products coming from the sheep that are herded in some of the wilder areas just to the northeast. Especially outstanding are the many dishes associated with the festival of olive oil, including the soupo revessado (‘inverted soup’), the intense frigidouro negro (‘black fry’, sheep's pluck with blood) and one of the most interesting desserts I know, the torto d’espinarc à la sabounero, a sweet pie made with spinach, anchovies, olives, honey and dried fruits. But of all the savoury and sweet delights that I came to know and love during those idyllic sojourns in Provence, there is none I love more than the simple and insanely delicious tartino au pan d’ouliverio, in French la tartine au pain d’oliverie, the olive oil cake ‘sandwich’.

The pan d’ouliverio is a sort of dense cake, not unlike some firm cheeses in consistency, which is made according to an ancient process from olive oil and the olive ‘pomace’ or la chanso in Savonnette dialect (from the Latin sampsa). In some of the villages to the northeast, a similar – but in the eyes of connoisseurs, inferior – pan gras is made from mixtures of olive products and sheep’s fat, some of which can be quite delicious in my opinion. The cakes can be made au naturau, ‘natural’ style, with no added flavourings, or bèn-oulent (French parfumé), that is, scented with an herb or a melange of herbes for which Provence is so justly renowned. Herebelow you can see a small pan d’ouliverio bèn-oulent de Sabouneto, one of Savonnette’s sublime little cakes that are studded with fennel and caraway.


In my opinion, the best way to eat pan d’ouliverio is to scrape off a bit and spread it on a nice piece of a baguette or, if available, a good Provençal style country loaf. To wash this little morsel from heaven down, I recommend a nice glas of Pernod or Ricard, with a little water and a little ice.


As an historical note, I thought I should add the following. There is no question that real pan d’ouliverio is a specialty of Provence and that it attains in that region probably its most exquisite and perfectly aromatic forms. But little known is the fact that in a number of localities in Greece, a virtually identical product has been made for as long as people can remember, namely the aporrypantikó (Katharevousa) or plakáki (sapounioú) (Demotic). A large cake of the traditional Greek product can be seen in the photographs above. Interestingly enough, just as the Provençals enjoy their pan d’ouliverio with an anise-flavoured Pernod or Ricard, so too many Greeks enjoy their kathará plakákia, ‘little clean cakes’, with a glass of ouzo, though on Crete I’ve seen the cakes consumed with a shot of tsipoúro (Greek grappa) or rakí. Another interesting parallel between the Provençal and Greek enjoyment of olive oil cakes is the fact that both in the region around Marseille and Savonnette and in the southern Peloponnese and Crete, these tasty treats are traditionally believed to cure what is now known as Tourette’s syndrome, as well as dæmonically inspired glossalia and xenoglossalia.

Perhaps the most interesting aspect of this tale is that there could well be a direct historical connexion between the Provençal and the Greek traditions, for as many of you know, Marseille, the ancient Massilía, was founded by Phocaean Greeks about 600 B.C.

In the course of my research on sheep’s pluck stews, I have come across occasional mention of a story according to which ‘clean cakes’ are something invented in Chicago and in particular by Anthony Thromboskephalioú, uncle of the famous Panos ‘Pops’ Papadakis (link), inventor of ‘chicken Hephaistos’ or, as it is called today, ‘chicken Vesuvio’. Mr. Thromboskephalioú owned a number of savoury foodstands in the then unsavoury Printers’ Row district and one of the snacks and home remedies he served were the kathará plakákia that he had enjoyed during his childhood on the island of Kíthera. The tradition of eating such ‘clean cakes’ has indeed continued among some older residents of Printers’ Row and the Near South, though American products are commonly substituted for the more exotic Old World items.


© Antonius Volcinus de Montibus 2006
Academia Novi Belgii


Links to other recipes and cooking notes by this writer: http://lthforum.com/bb/viewtopic.php?p=55649#55649

I am unaware of any Irish connections but when I was a child, my mother(born in Co. Cork) would feed us something very similar (without the bread) when we misspoke. usually it was orange in color (similar to cheddar cheese) and we could sometimes see the logo on the cake......D I A L. I dont know what it stands for, I always assumed it was an acronym.

atomicman wrote:I am unaware of any Irish connections but when I was a child, my mother(born in Co. Cork) would feed us something very similar (without the bread) when we misspoke. usually it was orange in color (similar to cheddar cheese) and we could sometimes see the logo on the cake......D I A L. I dont know what it stands for, I always assumed it was an acronym.

Atomicman,

Interesting. I think, though, that you've misremembered the spelling of that cheese-like cake. The proper spelling is, I'm quite sure, «diail», which is of course the Gaelic word for 'excellent', as in «go diail!» 'excellent!'.

Bua 's beannacht!
Antonius

Caro Antonius, penso che riesci a farla in barba a tutti di noi! Bravissimo. Molto lavoro.
la tua ammiratrice,
Gioia

Joy wrote:Caro Antonius, penso che riesci a farla in barba a tutti di noi! Bravissimo. Molto larovo.
la tua ammiratrice,
Gioia

Cara Gioia,

Mille grazie!... Ma non scherzo. Non mangi tu il sapone d'olio d'oliva? 'E veramente saporito.



A

Hey, this brings back memories of my misspent youth,

Flip

Antonius wrote:In my opinion, the best way to eat pan d’ouliverio is to scrape off a bit and spread it on a nice piece of a baguette or, if available, a good Provençal style country loaf.

Antonius,

Pan d'luliverio worked impossibly well with my homemade terrine, thanks for posting suggested uses.

Enjoy,
Gary

A--

Wonderful stuff. You might be very interested in the espuma de jabon at el Bulli. I hear that Ferran presents it free to diners sobre el fregadero as they say, between courses. He is also experimenting with gels and interesting delivery devices that mirror things they are doing at Alinea, Moto, and Porcher.

Oh, so Ferran Adria thinks he invented the soap course, eh? Chicago is so far ahead of him he doesn't even know what time it is.

From Chicago Confidential (1950), by Lait and Mortimer:

Almost all the better restaurants which were the rendezvous of the sportier sets, the top show people, political prominents, the grand-standers and the box-holders when Chicago had race tracks within its limits, have also been obliterated by rising rents and declining patronage. Among these were DeJohnge's, Stilson's, Kuntz-Remmler's, Vogelsang's, Billy Boyle's Chop House, Billy Mangler's, The Union, not to mention the world-famous Heinegabubler's, with its collapsing stairs, soap for cheese and many other practical jokes which were considered devilish. Henrici's is among the few standard eating-places left and that has been taken over by a lunchroom chain, though its standards are still high.

And in case anyone thinks I made that one up:

http://javasbachelorpad.com/chiconfidential.html

JeffB wrote:A--

Wonderful stuff. You might be very interested in the espuma de jabon at el Bulli. I hear that Ferran presents it free to diners sobre el fregadero as they say, between courses. He is also experimenting with gels and interesting delivery devices that mirror things they are doing at Alinea, Moto, and Porcher.

J:

espuma de jabón, espuma de jamón... Not much of a difference, no? And I bet some of those foams and gels would work wonders on a head of hair too.

sapore, sapone... they're oh-so-close...

A

Tartines au Pain d’Oliverie
Olive Oil Cake Hors d’œuvres
The Old and the New

It's been about a year since I first posted on this delicacy that is still so little known in these United States. In light of that, I though t it would do well for me to post a brief update and call your attention to two fine versions of pain d'oliverie which I have tried in recent weeks, one, from a traditional source of these little delights, namely, Greece, the other from a newcomer to olive cake production...

Of course, when Lent comes around, it's hard to resist making it a regular habit to eat pain d'oliverie and, perhaps on account of their Greek name -- kathará plakákia, that is, 'clean cakes' -- I find the Greek products especially hard to resist during the period of spiritual spring cleaning. On a recent visit to one of my preferred Greek food shops (also offering fine take-out hot dishes), Kolasa's Kitchen, I came across this brand of 'clean cake':


Good round olive-cake flavour, a nice mouth-feel, and well-suited to stand up to the contrasting intensity of raki, Papoutzanis' product is a real winner, and at less than $2 per cake, it's a real steal:


Now, as much as I love the traditional Provençal style pain d'oliverie and Greek 'clean cakes', I try to be open minded and ready to give innovative takes on old classics a try. Consequently, when I came across an olive cake made in Japan -- yes, that's right, Japan -- I couldn't resist:

Wow; this Japanese olive cake -- oribu miko keeku -- is an eye-opener. In all general and basic respects like the Greek and Provençal products, but somehow even more refreshing. Amata and I have been enjoying this "Olive Virgin Cake" shaved onto hot buckwheat noodles or incorporated into innovative sushi rolls of our own devise -- Marin Rolls (with Mt Tam cheese and abalone) and Drei-Schneider Rolls (with steak tartar and giardiniera). The only down side of these beautifully packaged Japanese olive cakes is the cost: $14 per piece! Nonetheless...
Tabesugi de onaka o kowashite shimaimashita*...
Itadakimasu!


Antonius

*I got an upset stomach from eating too much.

Antonius wrote:Wow; this Japanese olive cake -- oribu miko keeku -- is an eye-opener.

Antonius,

On your recommendation I've very much enjoyed olive cake in the past and the Japanese version sounds irresistible shaved onto hot buckwheat noodles, not to mention the Marin Roll.

Even at $14 per I can't resist, where may I purchase these exceptional treats?

Thanks in advance for the info,
Gary

Mike G wrote:
From Chicago Confidential (1950), by Lait and Mortimer:[snip]

And in case anyone thinks I made that one up:

http://javasbachelorpad.com/chiconfidential.html

I have this book! It's a hoot.

G Wiv wrote:

Antonius wrote:Wow; this Japanese olive cake -- oribu miko keeku -- is an eye-opener.

Antonius,

On your recommendation I've very much enjoyed olive cake in the past and the Japanese version sounds irresistible shaved onto hot buckwheat noodles, not to mention the Marin Roll.

Even at $14 per I can't resist, where may I purchase these exceptional treats?

Thanks in advance for the info...

Gary,

Thanks so much for responding to my post and I apologise for the delay in answering your posted question but I wasn't sure what to do. In the spirit of the board, of course, I would love to make this stuff available to everyone but there are some reasons why it might not be such a good idea to talk about the place where I got it in a public forum. That's why I decided to p.m. you about this, rather than posting in the thread.

So then, I know of two sources for Japanese olive cakes, one of which is in Chicago, more specifically on one of the side streets off Clark, not far from Wrigley. In fact, it's fairly near the old Nikkei Nisei Bar and Grill...

Now, remember the thread about secret restaurants? Well, this place is, among other things, a secret restaurant. Perhaps one should refer to it as a secret pleasure house, but one with a Japanese theme. The ultimate history of the establishment is shrouded in some mystery but from what I can gather, it originally was a locally owned and operated independent business but then in the late 1970's or early 1980's, it was bought up by the Nederlandse Vermaaksmaatschappij Nv. (NVM) and was turned into an 'Amsterdam' themed place, the "Kittelhuisje," which was just like all the other outposts of this chain in Europe and New York, LA, Tokyo, etc. Menu-wise, the Kittelhuisje wasn't all that interesting: bitterballen, kaaskroketjes, mosselen, ossenstaartsoep, hash, etc. ; the main focus was obviously on the entertainment.

Be that as it may, with the demise of the 'Kittelhuisje' concept, NVM decided to go upscale with more local autonomy in theme with its "Pleasure Houses" concept. So then, in the old Wrigleyville Kittelhuisje spot is this relatively new place, "Sappori Sangyou," though for some reason everyone seems to call it "Nikuya-san." The food is fantastic and it's really just for the fine food and a few drinks that I go. There's top quality sushi -- served on a "tabula viva," if one likes -- and also great 'drinking food' (cooked) dishes of various kinds. Frankly, I think this is the best Japanese restaurant in the city, hands down. And of course, they offer the exquisite Japanese olive cakes and use them in a number of dishes. They also will sell them to clients; that's where I get mine at $14 per cake.

Anyway, sorry for the long-winded answer; note too, it's a private club, but guests are allowed, so if you're interested in going, let me know. It's kind of a strange atmosphere but the food is remarkable.

You can also get the Japanese olive cakes on-line, though I haven't done that yet myself:
http://www.dhc.co.jp/goods/goodsdetail.jsp?gCode=2
Great with rice too, as well as with soba:
http://top.dhc.co.jp/shop/link_basket/g ... index.html

Antonius

Thromboskephalioú -- sounds like a blood clot in the brain.

Update: Alas, "Sappori Sangyou' (a.k.a. "Nikuya-san") closed its doors for good late last year and the exquisite Japanese olive cakes discussed and pictured above are to my knowledge currently unavailable in Chicago; I did, however, purchase a bunch of them on a recent trip to New York but, with the weak dollar, etc., the price has risen considerably: $24 per cake! I would be happy to sell a few of the cakes I have on hand to interested LTHers. Contact me via p.m. to arrange an exchange.

Antonius