
“Come and have a taste!”
I have to admit, for the past few years I’ve been dreaming of doing work with results you can actually touch.
I’ve spent my whole working life as a consultant and therapist – work I’ve loved, but whose results mostly take shape in people’s thoughts and decisions. Sometimes I’ve longed to reach the end of the day, look at something tangible and think: “I made that today.”
You have to be careful what you wish for. Sometimes it actually happens.
Then came Spain, our olive grove, Los Cantos de la Era – and suddenly I found myself spending my summer selling our olive oil at fairs and farmers’ markets across Estonia.
The task didn’t seem particularly complicated. It turned out to be bloody hard. I had never sold anything at a fair in my life.
At first, I thought my job was to tell people about our olive oil. But I had another goal too – I wanted to meet the people we are creating Los Cantos for and get to know them a little better. It didn’t take long to realise that listening was far more important than talking.
What did people really want to know?
- Can you cook and fry with this olive oil?
- What makes it different from the olive oil in supermarkets?
- How long does it keep?
- Is it filtered or unfiltered?
- Where does the bitterness come from?
- What is the best way to store olive oil?
- Do you really have 300 olive trees?
- Is there a lot of work involved in looking after an olive grove?
The same questions came up at almost every fair, and they taught me more than I could ever have explained in return.

It all started with a piece of bread, a little olive oil and a question.
But what I remember most vividly are the people.
In Rapla, I met an elderly lady who surprised me with both her knowledge and her genuine curiosity about the health benefits of olive oil. We talked about high-quality olive oil, its slightly bitter taste and why that bitterness is actually a sign of quality. Our conversation ended with a purchase – and a hug.
Several times, someone would taste the oil, ask a few questions and walk away. I would think, well, perhaps not this time. And then, a little later, they would come back.
It gave me a warm feeling. Not just because they bought something, but because they had taken their time, thought about it and returned because they genuinely wanted to.
I still smile when I remember one woman who liked our oil so much that the little pieces of bread Simon had baked for the tastings disappeared almost as quickly as we could put them out.
Not every fair was the same.
In Tartu, I didn’t find the same connection with people that I had experienced at the previous fairs. It was a shame, especially after such a wonderful day in Haapsalu just the day before. But that, too, was a useful lesson – choosing the right fairs and farm markets deserves just as much care as choosing olives at harvest time.
Saaremaa brought another lovely experience. The fair had a host who went from stand to stand, chatting with the vendors and introducing them to visitors. I soon noticed that people were arriving at our stand already knowing a little about us.
It reminded me once again how much trust matters.
The fairs also reminded me that products are a little like people – you don’t feel that connection with everyone. Some people taste, say thank you and move on. Some stay for a conversation. And some come back later.
Those are the people we create Los Cantos for.

Good olive oil brings people together. This summer reminded me of that again and again.
If someone asked me what surprised me most about this summer, I wouldn’t hesitate: the conversations.
People’s genuine curiosity and their desire to understand why one olive oil can be so different from another.
All those questions came home with me after the fairs. And I have a feeling that, over time, they will turn into a little series of Los Cantos newsletters.
Thank you to everyone who stopped by our stand this summer, asked a question or simply stayed for a chat. Those encounters meant more to me than I expected.