MADRID, Spain — What’s the difference between a foodie, a professional foodie, and someone who just likes food? Behavior at the table suggests answers. The foodie discusses the intricacies of his croquette (What’s inside? What is this herby taste? What side of the Mediterranean Ocean is it from?), while the professional foodie, eyebrows furrowed, contemplates the angle of their next photo. The two are interrupted when the food lover exclaims at the top of her lungs, without reservation: “Sooo gooood!”
Our seven-day tour of Madrid, Cordóba and Seville with Fly Ace Corporation, makers of Doña Elena, the leading olive oil in the Philippines, was like a race, during which we ate our way to the finish line — a different one for each of us in the group. Mine was an eruption of wooziness in a crowded room at Sobrino de Botín in Madrid, the oldest restaurant in the world, where a young Francisco Goya once worked as a dishwasher. The culprit was a soup so delicious, rich and comfortingly hot, Sopa Castellana. It was my own fault. After a Mahou beer and walking across freezing-cold Plaza Mayor, I inhaled the hearty appetizer in four needy slurps and paid the price. I had reached my oil-jamón-beer-cheese-carbs limit. It was our last grand dinner in Spain and I was definitively stuffed. Clearly, I am not a foodie — I am just a girl, sitting in front of a plate, eager to eat everything.
Presented with dishes I’d never tasted before, I decided to abide by a revised version of Yoda’s wisdom: There is no do not; there is only try. I tried everything, even oxtail, which I ate while picturing a cartoonish image in my head of the ox that was once attached to it.
In Seville, I had my first taste of Jamón Iberico, which activated taste buds I didn’t even know existed. It was also here that I had one of the best paellas of my life. The secret is the rice, they said. Always get short grain because it absorbs all the flavors better.
Wine was served like water. My favorite was a sweet and syrupy dessert wine served at Bodegas Campos in Cordóba. Bread is a staple and a major adjustment for a “rice person,” but you know, when in Spain….
I wonder how the locals stay so slim? We suspect it’s the olive oil. Extra-virgin is the healthiest fat on Earth, given that it’s “real” and was extracted using the best methods. It’s high in phenolic antioxidants, which fight chronic inflammation, the cause of many deadly diseases. Olive oil fans also claim it helps them feel fuller longer (as well as prevents them from getting drunk easily).
This was the objective of our trip: education on the benefits of olive oil, to taste the real thing, and see how it’s made. Our visits to Doña Elena’s partner olive farms and plants in Andalusia, which accounts for 45 percent of the world’s olive oil production, brought me back to factory fieldtrips of my childhood, when we had to wear shower caps and raincoats and walk in a straight line to avoid getting lost in a strange room. Led by our tour guide-slash-Fly Ace Corporation’s liaison in Spain, Pedro Rubio, we explored the Doña Elena olive oil plantation and plant in Priego de Cordóba first.
The first farm that we visited, owned by the Muelas, has been Fly Ace Corporation’s partner for more than four decades. The company’s president, Jun Cochanco, stood in the rain and mud with us as we were guided through the farm. There are about 200 varieties of olive trees in Spain; here they grow the Picudo variety at about 700 meters above sea level.
(Pro tip: When going to a farm, don’t wear white sneakers, they’re mud magnets.)
Doña Elena was named after Cochanco’s sister. When I asked him why, he joked, “Wala lang.” It was their mom’s idea, much like it was her idea to put the names of the three brothers in the family — Jun, Louie and Larry — to create the name of their company’s original name, Jolly General Merchandise.
The brand Doña Elena was been around for 20 years and is one of the top-selling olive oils in the country. What most people don’t know about it is that it’s a Filipino brand, wholly manufactured in Spain and is shipped to the Philippines already packaged and labeled.
At the Muelas’ 20,000-square-meter factory, we went olive oil tasting, which is a lot like wine tasting. They prepared four tinted glasses for each person, each glass containing a different kind of olive oil. We warmed the glasses with our hands and sniffed their contents, and then tasted them, just a fraction of a sip per glass. There were refined olive oils (pure and pomace), which were sweet and a bit mild, and extra-virgin — extra-spicy oils and one that had so many flavors like white pepper, green pepper, tomato and radish.
How to differentiate them in a nutshell, according to our guide Pedro: “Virgin olive oil is squeezed olive oil, no other processes were involved. Extra-virgin olive oil is the best quality of the oil that was squeezed.”
According to Rafael Muela, bitterness and spiciness in olive oil is a good thing. It means it has a lot of polyphenols and antioxidants. “Find out the different aromas and figure out what fits with your food,” he said. There is no cut-and-dried way of using olive oil; it’s up to your taste buds. The Spanish use it to cook, and also to season everything. Bread. Meat. Cheese. Doña Elena has its own recipe that caters to the Philippine market, in which they improve the oil’s fruitiness.
In Seville, we visited Hacienda Jalafre, where they make table olives as well as the most moist and delicious paella (they also cater). If you’ve never dined in a barn before, this must go on your bucket list. The barn’s cold temperature kept the beer cold. It felt like a set but it wasn’t. Everything from the jamón to the gentle old man slicing the jamón (to the Godfather theme, I imagine — I know the film’s Italian, but he had on this ring that was made to be kissed), was surreal. We ate olives straight from a plastic drum, and they were delicious.
I don’t fancy myself a foodie because everything is just “delicious” to me. There are no other adjectives in my vocabulary other than sweet, salty, spicy, sour and yummy, but this trip was a welcome lesson in the appreciation for what goes on behind the scenes — the art, science and drama of it all.
On our last night in Madrid, we went to a contemporary flamenco bar called Corral de la Moreria. After one set by the most gorgeous male dancer I have ever seen, they served contemporary tapas, which was good, but lacked the flair of the traditional. It made me wish I hadn’t bailed on dinner the previous night after getting dizzy from having too much food. Everything in moderation, including moderation, Oscar Wilde said. Pass me the olive oil; it’s the healthiest oil in the world.
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Thanks to Diane, Sasha, Aimee, Alya, Tippy and Gie for making sure I didn’t slip on any more manholes, and especially to Doña Elena and Fly Ace Corporation for the experience. For information, follow Doña Elena Cuisinera Club on Facebook. Follow the author @chonxtibajia on Instagram.