
The crisp, herbaceous green olive of the south of France — the apéro olive.
Long, slender, and a clear pale green, the Picholine is the olive of the French apéritif — firm, crunchy, subtly nutty, with a clean savoury snap. It originates in the Gard in Languedoc and is now grown across the French Midi and beyond. This is my home olive, and the one I reach for with a glass of cold rosé.
Picholine is grown both for the table and for oil — pressed, it gives a green, peppery oil with real character. On the table it is usually cured in brine, sometimes scented with herbes de Provence, coriander, or a little fennel. The texture is the point: it should crunch. A soft Picholine has been sitting too long.
The name “Picholine” gets borrowed loosely. In the United States you will find a “Picholine” that is really a Californian cultivar grown for canning — pleasant, but not the French original. And green olives sold loose in oil at the deli are often dressed up past their prime; the herbs and oil hide a tired olive. Buy them firm, in brine, and dress them yourself.