Who We Are (And Why Your Bread Deserves Better)
I’m Jordan Clayton—civil engineer by training, senior energy project manager by trade, and the kind of person who plans vacations around farm tours. Music, training, travel, food… I treat them all with unreasonable seriousness. Olive oil most of all.
At Olivoro, we hunt down monovarietal, single-estate extra virgin olive oils from families who still wake up before dawn to beat the mill. No tanker blends, no mystery origins, no “Mediterranean” vibes bottled in New Jersey. Just traceable groves, real harvest dates, and oils with a point of view.
Yes, it’s dramatic. Great oil tends to be.
The Story (A.K.A. How We Got Ruined for Grocery Aisles)
My fiancée and I spent time living out of suitcases across Tuscany and Crete—digital-nomad style. There, you’re either in a city or knee-deep in vines and olive trees. Everyone has “their” oil, usually pressed a few miles away and served without ceremony. We ate like that for weeks. My body felt incredible. Food was louder, fresher, simpler.
Back in South Florida, I went hunting for that same clarity. I wanted specifics: the cultivar, the exact estate, the mill, the lab numbers (acidity, polyphenols), the harvest week. You’d think I’d asked for state secrets. After a week of emails, calls, and obsessive research, I found a handful of producers that met the bar.
Then it clicked: if I had to fight this hard to find the good stuff, other people probably gave up. So I made Olivoro—the bridge between small, obsessive farms and your table. You’re welcome. Or not. Fate is stubborn.
What We Actually Sell (Use Like You Mean It)
High-quality EVOO is not for blasting in a skillet until it weeps. It’s for finishing, drizzling, and flexing.
Bread, properly anointed: Plate. Oil. Flaky salt. Warm crust. Silence.
Salads that stop being chores: Oil + acid (balsamic, citrus), pinch of salt, done.
The last 10% on everything: Soups, pastas, grilled veg, steaks—finish with a slow drizzle.
Caprese, but smug: Tomato, mozzarella, basil, oil. Try not to gloat.
Marinades with dignity: Oil, lemon zest, herbs, garlic. Let time do the work.
Bruschetta: Toast, garlic rub, chopped tomato, basil, oil. Civilization in three minutes.
Could you cook with it? Yes. Should you? We’ll pretend not to notice.
Where It Comes From (Names, Places, Pride)
We work with single estates across real regions—actual families, not “brand groups”:
Jaén, Spain (Picual Novello): Intense green fruit, pepper, attitude.
Tuscany, Italy (Frantoio, Organic): Artichoke, almond, precision.
Umbria, Italy (Frantoio/Moraiolo blends): Herbaceous, elegant, quietly dangerous.
Subbética, Spain (Hojiblanca/Picuda terroir): Mountain fruit, clean bitterness.
Milas, Türkiye (Memecik): Grassy, robust, pepper finish—ancient grove energy.
Each bottle is harvest-dated, single-mill, and sourced from families who would rather run out than lower their standards. That’s our kind of people.
How We Vet (Because “Trust Me” Isn’t a Strategy)
Single-estate & monovarietal first. Blends only if the farmer can explain why like a winemaker.
Freshness or nothing. Northern and southern hemisphere harvest cycles; no zombie oil.
Lab transparency. Free fatty acidity, polyphenols, peroxide values—shared, not hidden.
Milling discipline. Early harvest, fast milling, temperature control, nitrogen where appropriate.
Taste panels. If it doesn’t light up a table of picky humans, it doesn’t ship.
Why Bother (Health, Heritage, and a Tiny Rebellion)
Nutrition that actually does something. High-quality EVOO is rich in monounsaturated fats and naturally occurring antioxidants (polyphenols). Translation: heart-friendly, anti-inflammatory, and good for the “feel better after eating” metric.
Flavor > noise. Real oil adds fruitiness, balanced bitterness, and that glorious pepper kick—so you use less and taste more.
Support what should exist. Small farms, old trees, clean farming, sane milling—buying from them keeps them alive. The alternative is… shelf-stable beige.
Our Vision (Plain English, Strong Coffee)
Quality without compromise. Keep a tight roster of producers who sleep fine at night.
Radical transparency. Publish the numbers, the places, the people. If it’s vague, it’s out.
Education without snobbery. Show you how to use great oil in a Tuesday dinner, not just on holidays.
Growth, slowly. More regions, more cultivars—never at the cost of standards.
Proof You’ll Feel
Harvest-dated bottles with origin you can point to on a map.
Producers who’ll answer the phone and argue about milling temperatures.
Flavor that makes basic food taste like you upgraded your life.
A Note from Jordan
I built Olivoro so you could skip the scavenger hunt and go straight to the good stuff. If you love it, amazing—tell a friend. If you don’t, tell me why. We’ll fix it or we won’t carry it. Simple.
Anoint Thy Feast
Explore the oils, pick one, drizzle like a minor god. Or wait. And yet, next time, the shelves will still be empty when you finally decide.