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WHY Us

RESEARCH

Having done some research I found out that the area where our trees are located has been famous for excellent olive oil production since the 7th century B.C.. Our orchards are located in the valley below the stunningly, steep mountain of Dikti. This is where the God Zeus was hidden by Rea so his father Kronos didn’t eat him. Still to this day the area is hidden from civilization and has a great reputation for its sole produce ”our “olive oil.

Our orchards are at 500 metres altitude and are located at the most southern point of Europe. This means that the olives ripen in December and January well into winter which means the fruit ripens perfectly and is full of healthy characteristics. Nearly organic and blessed by a micro clima that is perfect for olive trees we now know that “our “ olive oil rated “good “ by my grandfather is consistently rated year after year to be Ultra Premium quality extra virgin olive oil .

Now that olive oil has been discovered for its excellent health benefits we want to share with you the magic oil from the trees that my Grandfather and his fathers before him nurtured with their own hands.
Our families have grown and taken their own paths but every year in December we come together to harvest the olives in our Cretan valley.

Keeping alive the Peraki family traditions of excellent olive oil, cold pressed and now bottled and shipped all over the world.

THE HARVEST

Forty one years ago, when I was a young boy we visited my grandparents during the olive harvest just before Christmas. During that visit we helped with the harvest. Me and my brothers, my father and his brothers with their kids, my aunties with their husbands and their kids went out to the orchards and spent the day in a chaos of activities. The older boys cut the highest branches that my grandpa told us had to be removed. We dropped them on the nets spread under the trees whacking the fruit off them with a stick and then put them outside the nets on the ground.

We all had sticks or bamboo poles of different lengths and everyone was whacking the trees trying to shake the fruit off but also trying not to hurt the branches as we were under the watchful eye of my father. We thought it was impossible to harm the branches but as we got more practice we understood the technique. As the fruit was thinning on the tree and the nets were filling the women were tilting the nets and moving the fruit into piles. Then they scooped the fruit into big burlap sacks. When the nets were free of fruit they moved them to the next row of trees so we could carry on whacking. Behind us the orchard was littered with half full sacks left by the women as they were too heavy for them to carry.

That night after my father, uncle and grandpa arrived back at the house they announced that we had produced nearly six hundred kilos of olive oil. We ate wild greens together picked earlier from the orchard, swimming in sublime color, peppery, almost bitter tasting, fresh from the press, olive oil with a goat soup. My grandfather taste tested our days product, rated it as “good” olive oil and we all raised our glasses to cheer to a good days harvesting. During this dinner I came to the realization that my family were olive oil producers.

Our olive Oil

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