Twelve euros for a liter of Carbonell. That same bottle cost two euros just two years ago. Multiply that: six times higher. And the rise doesn't seem to have peaked, as some assume it will reach thirteen, while others ask the uncomfortable question: will we hit twenty? Olive oil, an emblem of the Spanish pantry, has stopped behaving like a staple food and started acting like a luxury item.
The increase isn't just a label anecdote. It's a snapshot of how value is distributed along the chain, from tree to shelf, and who ends up paying the bill: the shopper pushing the cart.
Why does the price rise if the bottler loses money?
Carbonell is the flagship brand of Deoleo, and some argue the company sells a mid-quality product above market price while accumulating years of losses. If the manufacturer isn't profiting and the farmer doesn't seem to be escaping poverty either, the margin must be somewhere else. The most repeated suspicion points to wholesalers, accused of making a fortune by manipulating prices. This thesis summarizes the general feeling: someone is getting rich off this, and it's not the one tilling the land.
The stock market trail doesn't quite fit the scarcity narrative either. Those trinc the company recall that the capital increase left old shareholders cornered: those who bought before 2020 at €0.50 per share had to put in more money or lose everything, while new entrants came in at €0.15-0.18. Today it trades around €0.24. Modest numbers for a company whose product is sold at gold-standard prices, although the full calculation, line by line, is more confusing than it seems.
The discount war: from €4.50/L to €12/L
The most unsettling comparison is on the shelves. A French-origin chain put a two-liter jug of Mozainos extra virgin olive oil at nine euros, bringing the liter down to €4.50, nearly 60% below the current price. Its competitor, also French, had announced its own cut the day before, with the liter between five and six euros. Note the nuance: it was presented as a promotion, so there remains doubt about what the price returns to when it ends.
That someone can sell at €4.50 and another at €12 forces us to ask what lies in between. The most obvious answer is the label: the brand weighs more than the content.
Then there is the trap of the offer. In one supermarket, people were buying up a roll of kitchen paper for one euro that looked like 600 sheets but actually contained 150; the pack of four rolls of 600 sheets of private label came out to €3.44. The big sign deceives; the unit price decides. The same happens with oil: you have to look at the price per liter.
Rationing, jugs, and the international price map
With rising prices, behavior becomes precautionary. There is talk of rationing; some have already bought four jugs in case prices keep climbing; and not everyone forgets the time when the five-liter jug cost €20-21. Bought at that price, today it's a relic.
Outside Spain, references are hardly comforting. In France, private label liters were seen at ten; in Switzerland, a private label brand was at 6.89 francs, about seven euros; and in Thailand, a liter of a product marketed as luxury costs 14 euros. The anomaly isn't that oil is expensive globally. It's that it's expensive in the country that produces it, and that the difference with third markets shrinks to a couple of euros.
Where do the olives in the bottle come from?
Another line of suspicion points to origin. Some claim part of the oil bottled by major brands is made with olives imported from Turkey and Algeria, raising questions about pesticide residues. It's an accusation circulating without verification, but it illustrates how deep distrust in labeling has gone.
Against this, the most repeated recommendation is to read the label and check the declared origin. Those who monitor this detail admit they might still be fooled, but prefer Spanish-origin products over containers with unclear origins.
Sunflower, pomace, and mill: fleeing the shelf
Consumer reaction has been the usual one: substitution. Sunflower oil at one euro has become the wildcard for frying; pomace oil appears as an intermediate option on some shelves at €3.99; and for salads, those who can afford it stick with extra virgin. The unwritten rule has prevailed: olive for what matters, sunflower for everything else. Some defend that extra virgin withstands heat better than refined sunflower, while others reply that, at these prices, nutritional debate is a luxury.
The other way out is skipping the middleman. Buying directly from the mill saves a few euros and, above all, allows knowing what you are buying. Hence, the message of directing money to local producers rather than large distribution channels gains ground.
If the liter has gone from two to twelve euros in a couple of years, and those who grow, bottle, and sell don't seem to have enriched themselves along the way, what part of that price is real cost and what part is simply what the market has decided consumers are willing to pay?
Summary of a discussion on Burbuja.info - Foro de economía, actualidad y política., translated from Spanish and reviewed before publication.
Read the full discussion (138 replies).
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