MAWSIM II — The Picking

MAWSIM  ·  I — The Tree  ·  II — The Picking  ·  III — The Press  ·  IV — The Tin  ·  V — The First Bread  ·  VI — The Jar

MAWSIM · Chapter II

The Picking

القطاف

The one workday of the year everyone fights to be invited to.

A tarp under an olive tree covered in freshly picked olives, with a ladder and basket

The tarp fills up slowly, then all at once. Same as the day.

The day runs the same way it always has. Tarps go down before the sun is properly up. Whoever's youngest and lightest climbs; everyone else combs the low branches with their fingers and little hand rakes. The kids get assigned the fallen fruit and take the job very seriously for about forty minutes. Around ten, the tea comes out — with bread, za'atar, and last year's oil, finishing its last week of work — and everything stops for a while without anyone calling it a break.

And at every tree, the same argument: comb toward yourself or away, strip the branch or go selectively, whether this tree is even ready yet. It's been running for forty years and nobody wants it settled. People fly home for this. Not for the work — the work is hard and the pay is olives — but for the day itself. Every October, offices in Chicago and Paterson quietly lose people for two weeks, and everyone knows where they went.

By dusk the tarps get gathered up by their corners and the fruit goes into sacks, and the sacks can't sit around — olives start losing their sharpness within a few days of picking. The next stop is the press, and it's soon.

From the groves: five to six kilos of fruit make one liter of oil. Every olive on the tarp gets picked up. Every single one.

Questions people actually ask

How are olives actually picked?

Mostly the way they were a thousand years ago: tarps spread beneath the tree, and hands combing the branches so the fruit rains down — helped by small hand rakes, ladders for the crown, and a stick for the stubborn top branches (used gently; beating hard bruises fruit and breaks next year's growth). Machines exist. On family terraces, hands win.

When do you pick — green or black?

Same tree, one question of timing. Green olives are simply picked early — firm, sharp, destined for the cure. Black olives ripened longer — softer, oilier. Most families pick as the fruit turns, a mix of both, and the argument about the perfect week is a seasonal tradition in itself.

How much oil does one tree give?

A good mature tree yields roughly 15 to 40 kilos of fruit; it takes about 5 to 6 kilos of olives to press a single liter of oil. Do the math across a family's year of cooking and you understand why every last olive on the tarp gets picked up.

Cooking this tonight? Ask Yasmin — she’ll walk you through it step by step and tell you what to swap if you’re missing something.