I love olive jars. Not the ones in the back of your fridge that have been there for 6 years, only to be used in the event of a martini. I’m talking about the ones used in olive groves to collect the fruit and store the oil. The ones that have littered the Mediterranean for centuries. Also called amphoras or jarres, you can see variations of them from the ruins of Pompeii to the gardens of France.
I first fell in love with these wonderful creations in Oak Bay, British Columbia. Not because Oak Bay is a world renowned olive growing region I can assure you, but it is a charming little hotbed for antique shops and unique ones at that. Walking along the main street of the village we passed an adorable shop called Sampson’s, specializing in French antiques. Not the gilded, uptight Louis XIV kind. The cool French farmhouse kind. In the window was the most beautiful emerald green olive jar, likely 19th century. The right size, the right colour, the right amount of chips and scuffs (patina they like to call it). Eureka! What a find! But no, the store was closed. Fortunately after a quick call to the number on the door, we made an appointment to visit the following day when we became the proud owners of a brand new (to us) olive jar for our dining room. We also picked up a similarly coloured “cruche orjol” (water jug) of a similar age and patina. And so began my love affair with these gorgeous vessels.
Six months later we left Canada to start our long awaited year of travel. With several stops in and around the Mediterranean I quickly realized that my gorgeous jar would be green with envy as I lusted over the piles and piles of earthenware jars and jugs we came across throughout southern Europe. Anywhere they grow olives, these beautiful jars proliferate. We were amazed in Greece and Italy as jars over a metre tall (and almost as big around) were repurposed as planters. In Mallorca, Spain the jars seemed to unbelievably further double in size and were seen on the side of the road as garden architecture. We also saw the same in the Côte d’Azur in France. I almost fainted in Barcelona when we had dinner at L’Olivé restaurant and saw their wall of olive jars in all shapes and sizes.
These beauties can be massive and while quite hearty, in the hands of international freight forwarders they are frightfully fragile. Getting them shipped home would be a challenge. But that didn’t deter me as I scoured every roadside garden centre, brocante and flea market for more olive jars. At last in Grottaglie, Italy I found the jar of my dreams at Enza Fasano Ceramiche. A traditional two handled design with modern glazing and a flawless finish. In the same emerald green that always catches my eye. We were thrilled to learn that Enza’s team would happily pack it up and ship it home for us. Soon, I’ll dedicate an entire post to our visit to Enza Fasano Ceramiche. Her work is so formidable it deserves its own post.
Seeing jars and jugs around France, at places like Poterie Ravel (more to come on them soon too) and the smaller versions at the Marchés aux Puces de Saint-Ouen, I was swooning and wishing we had a boat… (cue Roy Scheider from Jaws “You’re going to need a bigger boat.”). These fabulous beauties are everywhere.
Of course, I would be remiss if I didn’t also mention my equal affection for Ginger Jars. Similarly shaped, these beautiful porcelain or ceramic pieces often also come with a lid, a cute lid with an adorable little knob handle. I mean, how can you not love Olive Jars and NOT love Ginger Jars too? These are also quite prevalent in French antique sales. I even picked up a small vintage one in Amsterdam made by local Dutch potter, Delft.
These vessels are the perfect item to place in an awkward corner in your house. Especially if like me, your thumb is not as green as you like. Jars are the perfect alternative to a plant. Add some pampas grass or branches and voila, some texture and dimension just where you need it. They are also beautiful garden planters or just a great architectural piece to add to your green scape. Although for all of us who get to live in colder climes, be sure to bring them inside in winter as freezing temperatures could cause them to crack.
Even though I know that I’m probably all set when it comes to Olive Jars, I’ll always be drawn to their curves and colour, always in pursuit of that amphora with the perfect patina. One that is hearty enough for the trip to Canada, yet small enough to not cost the moon to ship.
