Prima Mensa, a Love Story... (II)

As I promised, I want to share with you the second part of the story of Prima Mensa — a small dream we made real, not without a great deal of effort ;)

If you missed the first part, you can read it here: Prima Mensa, a love story... (I)

...

Three months after that phone call, I went to see Migue and Ricardo. I had to convince them that bringing that extraordinary oil I tasted on that November afternoon to you was possible. It was no easy task — these were 4th-generation olive growers, born and bred in Puente Genil, after all.

- Migue, Ricardo, we have to bring this oil to Mi Oliva Gourmet. I believe that if we show people its true value, there will be those who know how to appreciate it. It was the same with Spanish wine at first — but decades on, people genuinely understand the difference between one wine and another. They know what a gran reserva is, a reserva, a tempranillo... With olive oil, we still have a long road ahead. It's true that very few people in Spain know what the Envero stage means, what olive yield is, the difference between picking from the tree and gathering from the ground... They're all labeled Extra Virgin Olive Oil, but where do they end up? Do you remember what the Mill Master told us the day we visited? — "Look at that tanker — the oil inside is extraordinary. They're taking it to Italy to blend with much lower-quality oils and improve their flavor and grade."

Then Migue said, almost indignantly — Of course — they lower the acidity and sell it as Extra Virgin Olive Oil...

Exactly, Migue, — I said — it's time someone spoke up. We'll be the first, and people will call us mad, but I think it's worth it. And if we can't make it work here, I can help you list it on Amazon and sell it in the UK, France and Germany. Over there, people really appreciate Extra Virgin Olive Oil. Worse oils than yours sell for €30 a bottle.

There was actually something I didn't tell them. I was afraid. Afraid of failing. Of not being able to convey just how precious an oil like this really was. Afraid that they would put their trust in me and I would cost them a great deal of money... But if you never face your fears, dreams never become reality.

We talked at length about everything. They had no end of questions. Many of them I could answer. Many others I couldn't, but I did my best. I tried to give them confidence. I know that with enough effort, anything is possible.

The first step was done. Migue and Ricardo had joined my dream :)

But there was still a long way to go. My mission was clear, and I had less than nine months...

So I started researching prestigious oils. They all came in original, beautiful containers. And so I thought: I'll need to find a beautiful bottle — if everyone does it that way, that must be the thing to do...

My search took me to Italy — the great glassmakers.

I hit a wall.

It turned out that, on top of being expensive, they required a minimum run of 10,000 bottles for the price to be anything less than more expensive than the oil itself. Madness! How was I going to tell Miguel and Ricardo they had to spend that kind of money on a dream?

Then I thought back to that unlabeled bottle sitting next to my seat... To me it had seemed the most precious thing in the world, and it wasn't an extravagant container — it was just a simple flask. What mattered was inside, not outside. What if I used that very same flask?...

And that's exactly what we did ;)

I kept researching the prestigious oils.

They all had awards.

So I started looking into the awards.

And do you know what I found?

They required sealed tanks of at least 3,000 litres! And our production was going to be highly selective — only the finest part of the grove. A thousand litres at most... Awards were out of the question too. They were designed for large-scale production, a world away from the idea of making the very best oil we possibly could.

All that was left was the name.

I called my friend Jose María from Al Margen. It was his specialty. I told him the story. I made him part of our dream. I told him the name had to work equally well in Spain and across Europe.

A week later he sent me his four proposals:

- Fundum lares (estate of the gods, farm of the gods).
- Prima mensa (main course, first course).
- Penus Baetica (larder of Andalusia).
- Fundum Baetica (heart of Andalusia).

I talked it over with Ricardo and Migue and we went with the second one. I hope you'll agree it was the right call ;)

The last hurdle was the boxes. We wanted packaging that wouldn't cost a fortune either. After the experience with the glass bottles, I decided not to waste any more time trying to imitate the "prestigious oils." The value of Prima Mensa would come from the inside, not the outside.

Even so, I ran into the same problem again. The dreaded minimum run. Every cardboard manufacturer told me the minimum order was between 6,000 and 8,000 boxes! I also reached out to some online packaging companies that allowed smaller runs, but the prices were prohibitive.

By then it was late November and time was running out. Migue was getting anxious. Ricardo called me two out of every three days to check on how things were going. The olives had already been picked and pressed in the first run. The only thing I had going for me was the success of Arraigo.

Then, as if by pure serendipity, while chatting with Jose María from Al Margen about the photography, I mentioned the problem I was facing. He said to let him make a couple of calls — he might be able to get a packaging supplier to agree to a smaller run.

And he did! We got to work designing the box — simple, practical, elegant, sturdy, and above all, affordable. By the end of December everything had been ordered.

We'd done it! We wanted the price of Prima Mensa to be 80% oil and 20% everything else. For an oil of this type, the norm is 60% oil and 40% everything else. Not only had we hit that target — we'd surpassed it!

In the price of Prima Mensa, 85% was the oil itself — the purest oil from the San Miguel olive grove.

We were overjoyed!

Since we put it on the website and I wrote you the first part of this story, a third of the stock has already been reserved!

I've already tasted it myself. At the end of December I was with Migue and Ricardo — we took a photo together (the one you can see above) with Arraigo and Prima Mensa in the olive grove, and they gave me a small bottle. It's a delight: intense in flavor, full of nuance, much smoother than Arraigo in its peppery bite and bitterness, yet with an even longer finish, if anything.

It's a gem!

I save it strictly for drizzling raw. I've already had three groups of friends over to try it — just as it is, with a chunk of bread.

Incredible...

I hope you've enjoyed learning more about Prima Mensa. This article has run rather long, and I've still left plenty out — a few setbacks at the Almazara, the worry over the drought, the week of the harvest, the remarkable lab results, the wait to see the yield...

Maybe I'll get inspired and write a third chapter of the Prima Mensa story ;)

Or am I already pushing my luck?...

Either way — thank you, truly, for reading, for your support, and for your comments on the site...

A big hug!

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