Estate-Grown: The Story Behind Lloyd's Olive Oil

The Grove That Almost Wasn't

Seven years ago, the land where our olive trees now stand looked entirely different. Raw earth, potential unrealized, questions about what this place could become. Someone had a vision: not just a beautiful property, but a working farm. Not just an event space, but land that actually produces something.

Planting olive trees is an act of faith. They take years to mature, longer still to produce meaningful harvests. You're investing in something you won't fully realize for half a decade or more. In an era of quick returns and instant gratification, there's something quietly radical about putting saplings in the ground and waiting.

But that's exactly what happened at Las Palmas. And on November 30, 2023, we pressed our first harvest—bottles of extra virgin olive oil that carry the taste of this specific earth, this particular microclimate, this seven-year journey from vision to reality.

This is the story of Lloyd's Olive Oil, named for one of our resident sweet (and mischievous! He loves to escape any chance he can!) St. Bernard, who has overseen the grove's transformation with great seriousness (and occasional naps in the shade of maturing trees). It's a story about patience, place, and what it means to celebrate on land that's still being tended and cultivated.

Why Olives, Why Here

Ojai is in California's hardiness zones 9a and 9b—a climate designation that matters to farmers and gardeners. It translates to: warm days, cool nights, minimal frost, Mediterranean-like conditions. The kind of environment where olives have thrived for millennia in their native lands.

The valley's agricultural history runs deep. Citrus groves once covered these hillsides. Avocado orchards still do. The soil drains well. The sun is generous. The fog that sometimes settles in the valley creates temperature modulation that benefits fruit development. Every geographical and climatic element conspires to make this excellent olive-growing territory.

But knowing the conditions work and actually cultivating a productive grove are different undertakings. We started with six olive varieties, each chosen for specific characteristics:

Arbequina from Catalonia, Spain—compact trees producing small olives with fruity, slightly nutty oil. Early bearing variety, meaning they produce fruit relatively young.

Mission olives—the California heritage variety brought by Spanish missionaries centuries ago. Larger trees with resilient nature and oil carrying distinctive peppery notes reflecting American terroir.

Arbosana from Spain—high-density planting variety with robust, peppery oil. Good pollinator for other varieties.

Frantoio from Italy—brings that characteristic Italian olive oil profile: grassy, slightly bitter, with artichoke notes. One of the classic Tuscan varieties.

Koroneiki from Greece—small, intensely flavored olives producing oil with strong fruity character and peppery finish. The backbone of Greek olive oil production.

Manzanillo from Spain—dual-purpose olive (table and oil) with sweet, nutty characteristics. Adds complexity and roundness to blends.

This diversity wasn't random. Different varieties pollinate each other. They mature at slightly different times, extending harvest window. Each contributes distinct flavor notes that, when blended, create complexity no single variety offers.

More practically: if one variety struggles in a particular year, others may thrive. Agricultural diversity provides resilience.

The Seven-Year Wait

If you've never grown olives, you might not realize how slowly they develop. First year, you're just hoping the saplings survive. Second year, they're establishing root systems, growing taller but still vulnerable. Third year, you might see a few experimental blossoms, but you don't expect real fruit.

By year four or five, the trees begin looking like actual olive trees rather than ambitious sticks. Year six, you get a light crop—enough to get excited about, not enough to press commercially. Year seven is when production typically begins in earnest.

We planted our trees as young saplings and spent years tending them. Irrigation had to be calibrated—olives prefer drought stress for oil quality, but young trees need consistent water to establish. We learned about pruning for structure versus pruning for production. We discovered which varieties loved their specific locations and which needed more attention.

Harry and Lloyd, our resident St. Bernards, provided supervision. Lloyd in particular seemed to understand the gravity of growing something that would eventually bear his name. He spent considerable time among the trees, presumably conducting quality control through means known only to him.

By late 2023, the trees were ready. We scheduled harvest for November 30th—timing chosen based on oil content testing and flavor development. Too early and the olives yield less oil with green, aggressively bitter character. Too late and the oil loses some fruity notes, though it becomes milder. We aimed for the sweet spot where fruit intensity meets balanced flavor.

Harvest Day: From Tree to Press

Olive harvest happens fast once it begins. The fruit needs to be processed within 24-48 hours of picking to maintain quality and achieve true "extra virgin" designation. Oxidation starts immediately. Delay creates opportunity for fermentation or degradation that shows up in the oil.

Our team harvested by hand, selecting fruit at optimal ripeness. Some olives were still green, others had turned deep purple-black. This mix creates complexity—green olives contribute bitter, peppery notes while ripe olives add fruity roundness.

From the grove, olives went directly to a local press. Modern olive oil production uses centrifugal systems—essentially very sophisticated spinning that separates oil from fruit pulp and water. No heat beyond what friction generates (thus "cold pressed"). No chemicals. Just mechanical extraction of the oil that olive fruit naturally contains.

What emerged was our first harvest: extra virgin olive oil with the flavor profile we'd hoped for. Smooth, full-bodied, balanced—fruity without being sweet, peppery without being harsh, with that subtle black pepper finish that indicates healthy polyphenol content.

We bottled it as Lloyd's Olive Oil, designed labels featuring our distinguished canine namesake, and suddenly had something we'd grown ourselves to share.

What "Working Farm" Actually Means

Las Palmas isn't a working farm in the commercial agriculture sense. We're not producing at scale or competing in commodity markets. The olive grove occupies a portion of the property, not its entirety. This is estate production—farming integrated into a larger property vision rather than farming as primary enterprise.

But "working farm" still means something specific and important:

The land is actively cultivated. The olive trees aren't just landscaping or aesthetic elements. They're agricultural crops requiring real stewardship—pruning, pest management, irrigation, harvest. They demand attention and give back production.

We're participating in regional agriculture. Ojai has deep agricultural roots. By maintaining productive olive trees, we're part of that continuum rather than just occupying space that was once agricultural.

The property changes with seasons. Spring brings blossoms. Summer brings fruit development. Fall brings harvest. Winter brings dormancy and pruning. The grove lives and grows on agricultural rather than event timeline.

We're producing actual food. Not metaphorical harvest or conceptual connection to land. Actual bottles of oil people cook with, taste, use. This creates different relationship to property than purely ornamental landscape would.

It requires expertise beyond event management. We've had to learn olive cultivation. Different skill set, different timeline, different measures of success. This keeps us humble and connected to the land's needs beyond our own programming.

For guests and clients, this working farm status creates tangible connection to place. You're not just renting a pretty venue—you're gathering on land that's actively being farmed, that produces something, that has agricultural purpose alongside hospitality purpose.

How Lloyd's Shows Up at Events

The olive oil we produce doesn't just sit on shelves. It weaves into events in ways that strengthen sense of place and create memorable touchpoints:

Welcome Gifts and Favors

Many couples choose bottles of Lloyd's as wedding favors—guests leave with something grown on the property where they celebrated. These aren't generic favors ordered from catalogs; they're literally fruit of the land where the wedding happened.

Some couples create custom labels with their wedding date or personal message. Others simply let Lloyd's distinctive packaging (featuring our handsome St. Bernard) speak for itself.

For corporate retreats, bottles become meaningful gifts for team members—reminder of the retreat location with practical use in their own kitchens. Every time they drizzle it on salad or bread, they remember the gathering.

Culinary Integration

Forward-thinking caterers incorporate Lloyd's into menu design. Imagine starting your wedding dinner with fresh bread and herb-infused olive oil from the property's own trees. Or a signature cocktail using olive oil from the grove visible from the reception area.

We've seen chefs create dishes specifically showcasing the oil's flavor profile—simple preparations where quality of oil really matters. Roasted vegetables finished with Lloyd's. Fresh mozzarella with oil and crushed pepper. Citrus and olive oil cake using both the valley's lemons and our olives.

This isn't just farm-to-table philosophy—it's estate-to-table reality. Zero food miles between grove and guest.

Cocktail Creativity

Olive oil in cocktails might sound unusual, but craft bartenders have discovered how high-quality oil adds silky texture and subtle savory notes to drinks. We've seen olive oil martinis, citrus-olive oil margaritas, even olive oil-washed spirits that add complex depth.

When the olive oil comes from the property's own trees, these cocktails become site-specific beverages—drinks you can only experience here, made from ingredients grown here.

Educational Moments

Some events incorporate olive oil tasting as activity or conversation starter. We set up tasting stations where guests sample Lloyd's alongside discussion of what they're experiencing—the fruity notes from Arbequina, the pepper from Koroneiki, the grassiness from Frantoio.

These moments transform passive consumption into engaged experience. Guests learn something about olive oil quality and terroir while connecting to the specific place where they're gathered.

Ceremonial Touches

We've seen couples incorporate olive oil into ceremony rituals—blending oils from two bottles into one, symbolizing two families becoming one. When one of those bottles is from the venue's own grove, the symbolism deepens.

Olive trees and oil carry rich symbolism across cultures: peace, abundance, longevity, wisdom, connection to land. Using Lloyd's in ceremony taps into these ancient associations while grounding them in this specific place.

The Taste of Ojai

Wine enthusiasts talk about terroir—how grape vines translate their specific growing environment into flavor you can taste. Sun exposure, soil composition, microclimate, neighboring plants, water stress—all these factors show up in the wine.

Olive oil works the same way. Lloyd's doesn't taste like oil from Italy or Greece or Spain, even though our varieties originate there. It tastes like Ojai. The particular composition of our soil. The valley's temperature fluctuations. The way sun moves across the grove. The cool nights that slow ripening. All this becomes flavor.

When you taste Lloyd's, you're literally tasting place. The geology, the climate, the agricultural choices we made, the year's specific weather patterns—all translated into golden oil with black pepper finish.

This matters at events because it creates authentic connection to location. You're not just hosting your wedding or retreat in Ojai; you're incorporating Ojai into the actual experience. The place becomes participant rather than just backdrop.

What We're Learning

Seven years into olive cultivation, we're still learning constantly. Every year teaches something new:

Pruning matters enormously. How we shape the trees affects everything—air circulation, sunlight penetration, pest pressure, ease of harvest, oil quality. We're getting better at this but still learning.

Harvest timing is art as much as science. Testing equipment tells us oil content and certain chemical markers. But deciding exact harvest day requires judgment—balancing multiple factors, making educated guesses, accepting we won't get it perfectly optimized.

Weather creates vintage variation. Warmer years produce different oil than cooler years. Wet springs versus dry springs. Each vintage has character reflecting that specific year's growing conditions.

The trees are still maturing. Production will increase for years yet. We're not at full capacity. The grove will continue evolving, changing, improving.

Integration between farm and hospitality requires constant attention. Balancing agricultural needs with event schedules. Planning pruning around bookings. Ensuring harvest doesn't conflict with weddings. This dual purpose creates complexity but also richness.

Looking Forward: Next Harvests

This November, we'll harvest our second crop. The trees are bigger, stronger, more productive. We expect higher yield and potentially even better oil as the trees continue maturing.

We're considering expanding the grove slightly—not dramatically, but adding a few more trees in areas where they'd thrive. We're exploring whether to add other agricultural elements—herb gardens for culinary use, perhaps some fruit trees.

The question we keep asking: how do we deepen this working farm identity without losing focus on our primary purpose of hosting meaningful events? How does agricultural stewardship enhance rather than complicate hospitality?

The answer seems to lie in integration. The grove doesn't exist separately from the event space—it's part of the experience we offer. The oil we produce doesn't serve a different purpose than the beauty we maintain. It's all connected: land stewardship, hospitality, connection to place, creating experiences that matter.

For Couples and Organizations Considering Las Palmas

If you're exploring Las Palmas for your wedding or event, the olive grove and Lloyd's Olive Oil represent something larger than just an interesting amenity. They signal our relationship to this land and our commitment to being more than transactional venue.

When you book here, you're not just renting space for a day. You're gathering on land that's being actively tended, that produces something real, that exists in agricultural as well as hospitality time.

Your event might happen on a Saturday in June, but the property lives through full annual cycles. The trees that provide shade for your ceremony will blossom in spring, fruit in summer, go dormant in winter. The oil in bottles your guests take home will come from olives growing while you plan your celebration.

This creates different kind of connection. Not just "we got married at a pretty venue" but "we celebrated on a working farm, on land that gives back, in a place committed to something beyond just hosting events."

If that resonates—if the idea of gathering on working agricultural land appeals to you, if farm-to-table values matter, if you want your celebration connected to actual place rather than generic backdrop—then Lloyd's Olive Oil and the grove it comes from might be meaningful to your story.

Curious about celebrating on working farm? Reach out to learn more about Las Palmas and taste Lloyd's Olive Oil for yourself. Purchase here and contact us at info@laspalmasojai.com