For Export Only?

Well, there I was in Big Lots, home of mystery brands.

I was out of oil, the price was good...and, how could I resist this label?



Although something tells me their name isn't "Botticelli," there may be a fine Italian family behind this product, as the company's proclaimed "five generations of experience" tries to suggest.

It's perfectly good oil, and I've gone through half the bottle in a few months.

Luckily, that was before reading the taster reviews here...

While a few tasters liked this "potent" oil, others said they detected "mushroom," "rotten walnuts," "a Band-Aid wrapped in a cherry blossom," and a quality that was "downright medicinal-Triaminic, anyone?" Several deemed it "overpowering" and "musky," with a "rank, off-flavor." "Tastes not like olives but like the armpits of olive laborers," shuddered one.

I quote those for entertainment purposes only; I may have been lucky, but my batch tastes fine.

But then, I am a sucker for this kind of labeling.

There was that can of tomatoes schlepped from Canada in the early 1990s, just for the label that's been part of my kitchen décor ever since:

I don't know if this packaging is a tipoff that the products are for export. Italians certainly have a cultural legacy to advertise, but I never saw this kind of product labeling while traveling there. While playing up the glories of the Italian Renaissance to outsiders may be good marketing, perhaps Italians feel secure enough in knowing about this stuff that they don't need to be reminded by a "musterpiece" on an everyday product—

In any case, I like the overly dramatic linkage of label with content.

From on high: the creation of man...

And, a nice can of peeled tomatoes!