We spend so much of life avoiding bitterness. In food, in memories, in relationships—we equate bitter with unpleasant, something to be pushed aside. But in the world of olive oil, bitterness is not something to fear. It’s something to savor, even to learn from.

Olives are born bitter. You can’t pluck one off the tree and eat it—it will make you pucker and spit. Yet from that bitterness comes one of the world’s greatest gifts: extra virgin olive oil. Pressed and pure, it carries with it a depth of flavor that is proof of its vitality.

That sharp, green, almost biting taste on your tongue? It’s the polyphenols—the antioxidants that protect both the fruit and us. They are nature’s signpost of strength. The more bitter the oil, the more alive it is, the more protective it becomes.

I often think of bitterness as a teacher. Just as oil without bitterness tastes flat, life without its own difficult edges would be shallow. It is often the moments we resist—the sharp conversations, the disappointments, the losses—that end up giving us resilience, balance, and appreciation for sweetness when it comes.

In an olive oil tasting, I encourage people not to shy away from the bitterness. Instead, lean in. Notice the way it reveals layers of green almond, artichoke leaf, even dandelion greens. Let it linger. Let it open you to complexity.

Bitterness reminds us that not everything meant for us will feel easy at first. Often, the flavors we resist are the very ones that nourish us most deeply.

So the next time you taste a bold, bitter oil, remember: it’s more than flavor—it’s a philosophy. Olive oil shows us that bitterness isn’t an ending, but a beginning—the first step toward depth, strength, and balance.

Suzanne, The Olive Oil Gal