A few days later, we headed off to the frantoio, the olive mill, in the nearby Val di Chio, a beautiful valley beyond Castiglion Fiorentino.

The four of us, Micheline, Silla, Didu’ (the dog who likes no one, but strangely enough,

he seems to like me) and myself embark on our afternoon adventure.

Val di Chio

We stop to meet Liviero, who also lovingly tends and cares for the grounds at

Casa Portagioia, an exquisite agriturismo owned by Micheline’s friends,

Marcello and Terry.

Liviero, Micheline and Silla

Next stop : Frantoio Baldini

The work order for Micheline’s olives.

The olives are headed for the first pressing.

The viewing window

The first pressing

The golden green oil, there is nothing on this earth like it, right out of the press.

I have had many opportunities over the years to partake in this centuries old tradition

of picking and harvesting the olives in Italy.

It is an adventure that never ceases to amaze and thrill me. There is a

elemental connectedness to the land and to the Italian culture

that feeds my spirit in a most fundamental way.