Erica De Mane

Olives, Cup, and Garlic, by Julian Merrow-Smith

Recipe below: Taggiasca Olive Cake with Summer Herbs

You know how sometimes you hear about a dish or see a dish and immediately know it’s for you, sometimes even before tasting it? It just hits the spot. For me it happened with French olive cake. First off, the name drew me. Olive and cake. Then there was the taste memory, from childhood Easters, of pizza rustica, a torta with cheese, salumi, and often olives, made with a slightly sweet crust, the sweetness possibly undetectable unless you baked it yourself and knew you had put a little sugar in there. Sweet and savory. I tend to like such things. I saw a French olive cake in the window of a bar, alongside other aperitif-type offerings, during my one and only trip (so far) to Marseille, and I remember thinking, this looks good. I walked past several times, zeroing in on the slices of yellowy cake-bread thing filled with olives. Finally I went in and ordered a piece. It was compact yet slightly custardy, filled with olives and Gruyère and herbs and bits of ham, as I remember. I held it in my hand while wandering around the bar, spying on what everyone else was eating and wearing.

Immediate attraction, hard to explain, like the seemingly perfect boyfriend, the one you zero in on from across the street, looking disheveled and distracted into his own bad head. So alluring, yet somehow so familiar. I can’t go after every person on the street who looks appealing, but with food I can love whatever I want. It’s liberating.

When I got home from Marseille I started looking into the olive “cake” and learned that it was something that French cooks all knew about, a classic hors d’oeuvre. The recipes varied greatly in their proportions, some almost all egg and olives, with only a few tablespoons of flour, claufoutis-like, others denser, with baking powder for lift. Gruyère was almost always the cheese, but the olives varied. One thing I knew when I went about figuring out my own recipe was that I’d almost subconsciously steer it away from being pure French, and so I did. I couldn’t help it. My experiment in Italianization started with the olives. They would have to be the perfect olives or what was the point? Sweet and gentle, not the lye-soaked things at West Side Market. I ordered Taggiasca olives from Gustiamo. They’re grown in Liguria, and they’re basically the same as Niçoise, just over the border in France, so they’re not a radical Italian departure. I love them mostly for their gentle flavor, but also for their varying colors, from green to brown-streaked to almost black.

Most of the recipes I saw used butter, or a mix of butter and olive oil. I went with all olive oil. It make so much sense with the olives. And for the cheese for this, Gruyère is perfect. I did, however, happen to have a chunk of Bitto, a cow’s milk cheese from Lombardi, on hand. When moderately aged, it tastes a bit like Gruyère to me, so I went with it. I imagine Fontina Val d’Aosta would be another good choice.

The herbs contribute a lot here. My summer savory was doing well ,so I picked some. It’s a pungent herb. You just want a little. I mixed it with rosemary, which took the edge off it, yielding a warmer flavor. If you don’t have savory, use thyme. I left out the ham and decided instead to serve the cake with a side of soppressata. A nice Italian solution. I have found that the cake is best eaten right after it’s made, while maybe still a little warm. It’s also good the next morning for breakfast. After that it gets a bit gooey.

Taggiasca Olive Cake with Summer Herbs

1½ cups flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
Sea salt
Black pepper
4 large eggs
½ cup extra-virgin olive oil
½ cup dry vermouth
2 tablespoons sugar
A few sprigs each of rosemary and summer savory (or thyme)
¾ cup grated Bitto, Gruyère, or Fontina Val d’Aosta cheese
A big handful of Taggiasca, or Niçoise olives, pitted and pulled in half

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Oil up a loaf pan.

In a medium bowl, mix the flour with the baking powder, salt, and black pepper.

In a standing mixer, beat the eggs until foamy. Add the olive oil, the vermouth, and the sugar, and briefly mix everything together. Now gradually add the flour mixture to the eggs, just until everything is blending. Add the herbs, cheese, and the olives, and briefly mix.

Pour the batter into the loaf pan, and bake until the top is golden and the cake is springy to the touch, about 40 minutes. Let it cool for about 15 minutes before cutting.

It will go well with an arugula salad and a few slices of prosciutto, or, possibly even better, with soppressata. Or have it with a summer tomato and sweet onion salad, or just plain, with a glass of rosato.