Everybody has a war story about The Time They Ate the Entire Edible Even Though They Knew Better.
For me, the last major lapse in judgment was about seven years ago when an innocuous-seeming truffle started coming on so strong that I had to leave a party. I went home, started watching WALL-E, and within 20 minutes, I was having a full-on panic attack about how I was going to live to see the end of life on Earth. I knocked myself out by downing an entire bottle of Charles Shaw, and still woke up so high that writing even a single email was a Sisyphean ordeal.
It really was a fudgy truffle, though. But let us never speak of it again.
My low tolerance and I have been extremely wary of edibles ever since that evening. Mercifully, the landscape has begun to change, and the boundary of cannabis and food has seen the emergence of players who want to enhance a meal without laying low everybody at the table, four to six hours later.
Enter Pot d’Huile (PdH), a cannabis-infused olive oil that started out in a pie shop in the Mission and sensibly combines one milligram of THC in every milliliter of oil so you always know your dose. At a PdH canna-brunch Sunday afternoon at an event space in the Mission, Chef Pesha Perlsweig of Salvage Supperclub — known for turning discarded carrot tops into tasty soups — put out a spread that included aquafaba herb aioli and pickled root veggies, a fennel citrus sausage, a summer squash frittata, and a peach polenta cake.
Very few things were already dosed — and they were clearly marked by toothpicks with little green flags attached to them — so attendees had maximum control over their experience. (There was no alcohol, although the presence of Mr. Espresso nitro cold brew meant that sinking into oblivion in the form of a couch cushion was next-to-impossible.)
I deliberately chose to be a big baby and kept it to five milligrams — which is to say, one teaspoon. Three I added to a slice of frittata via medicine dropper, and two came in a serving of pre-made pistou (a nut-free relative of pesto). Sure enough, about 45 minutes in, I mellowed out just enough to stop being an incessant chatterbox but not so much that I forgot what I’d just said five seconds earlier. That’s right where I wanted to be.
Made from olives (and cannabis) sourced from the Sierra foothills, PdH is strain-specific. Retailing for $50 for a 125-milliliter bottle, it’s a 50-50 indica-sativa hybrid of Gorilla Glue No. 4 and Girl Scout Cookies.
“We are actually very picky about specific about our provenance,” Pot D’Huile CEO Yannick Crespo told SF Weekly. “Everything is grown, bottled, and produced here in Northern California.
“What grows together, goes together,” he added.
Eager to nerd out about terpenes and other flavor compounds, Crespo noted that his company’s oil is not quite flavorless per se.
“We’re flavor-neutral,” he said. “But most people say they don’t taste any of the cannabis. It’s really versatile and you can use the olive oil in place of any regular olive oil in any cookbook.”
While olive oil can remain fresh for as long as two years if stored in a cool place without a lot of light, PdH’s bottles list an expiration date roughly six months after the date of manufacture. That’s partly because the act of infusion can truncate the oil’s lifespan, but also because there are two factors to worry about. And Pot d’Huile wants to stay lean, eschewing products like butters and vape pens for what Crespo calls its core competency: the olive oil itself. He’s looking into creating different variations and potencies, but right now the goal is to expand throughout California.
While guests passed a demo bowl of piney-smelling, terpene-infused sugar around and slyly quizzed one another on their states of mind — “You feeling it yet?” — it was easy to breathe a sigh of contentment. At no point, then or later, did an adorably sentient robot herald the end of the world.
Pot d’Huile, available at Sparc (1256 Mission St.) and for delivery through Vapor Room.