Fior d’Oliva
Buy nowThere is a moment in the year when everything begins: May. The olive tree blooms quietly, without pretence, hinting at something that has yet to be tasted. Fior d’Oliva is born from that moment—from the memory of those pale white blossoms, from the gentleness of a natural process that unfolds slowly, passing through summer, ripening in autumn, and finally becoming extra virgin olive oil at the heart of November.
Year of Production
2024-2025
Extraction Period
From the first to the second ten days of November
Extraction Method
Continuous cycle extraction with knife milling at variable speed; mechanical extraction in the absence of oxygen and immediate filtration.
Intensity
On the nose: fresh hints, clean green tones, with light notes of white flowers and freshly cut herbs.
On the palate: a soft, harmonious entry. The fruitiness is present but never overpowering—like an idea that gradually finds its way.
Fior d’Oliva avoids excess.
It’s made for those who value delicacy—for dishes that don’t demand dominance, but seek dialogue.
It is the oil of careful hands, precise gestures, and the sensitivity that precedes every choice.
Fior d’Oliva is a tribute to time that moves slowly, and to the quiet strength of subtlety
It is the youngest and mildest oil in the collection, yet it carries the quiet weight of nearly six months: from the blooming in May to the harvest in mid-November. A cycle lived with grace, balanced between waiting and transformation.
Almost like a dance, it moves with steady precision: beginning with the fragility of newly opened blossoms, and concluding months later with that same finesse, now turned to aroma. The delicacy present at the beginning returns—unchanged in spirit, yet fully evolved—in its final form.
An oil that speaks to those who don’t need to raise their voice.
It is the oil of nuance, of restrained gestures, of a kind of sensibility that shapes every decision.
It recalls the lightness of early summer’s end: warm but not yet hot air, lengthening days, the feeling of time stretching ahead. It holds something of that carefree youthfulness that is never trivial—because it comes from knowing that every cycle has a beginning, an end, and a precise moment in which to bloom.
It is the trace of a love born in the light of June, lived without thought, and concluded with the same sweetness with which it began. Like a flower that blossoms, transforms, and then fades.
A brief and perfect cycle—beginning and ending in the same, unmistakable delicacy.
