Evan V.
Yelp
Readers should know that when forced into rigorous activity, both my father's and my own pores exude nothing but the finest, peppery, cold-pressed, extra-virgin, greenish-gold nectar of the olive. Understand that we consider this a familial blessing rather than a genetic curse. We normally buy the good stuff by the case at Job Lot and prepare everything we make (or 95% of our meals) in it or with it. So this place pretty much proves that the void of an afterlife, as promised by the Epic of Gilgamesh, is not something to fear, as long as we can enjoy spoils like these while we're still kicking. Whatever that means.
On our first visit we were outright overwhelmed (while entirely enchanted) by the rows-upon-rows of upright metal casks - each filled with a unique blend of oils (and vinegars) representing every corner of the globe, known for their fine yields.
The staff was engaging, informative and patient (a necessity when dealing with my increasingly elderly father, with his olive-oil-voice and his guinea charm). We were encouraged to try anything we wished, so we did. Lemon infused out of Turkey and red pepper from Spain - it was all so good and the concept for a shop of this kind is all too clever. The custom-bottling was a pleasant surprise, as was the fair price on their truffle oil (the item we originally came in for, by way of our current joint-obsession).
If you have a foodie in your life that is impossible to buy for, a gift certificate from here would be well received. Speaking of which, my dad's b-day is just around the corner and you best believe I'm headed here so he can cop that re-up.