Mo Amer, Netflix, and the Realest Olive Oil Cameo on TV

Let’s talk about Mo—the Netflix series that quietly dropped and then hit like a cultural earthquake.

Created by comedian Mo Amer, Mo is more than just a sharp, heartfelt comedy. It’s a deeply personal immigrant story, a love letter to Palestinian resilience, and… unexpectedly, a celebration of real extra virgin olive oil.

No, seriously. Olive oil isn’t just background flavor in Mo—it’s a recurring character. It pops up in emotional scenes, hilarious ones, and even in unexpected moments of cultural pride. For any of us who grew up with EVOO as the backbone of our kitchens and our families, it hits hard.

Let’s dive into how Mo turns olive oil into something more than food. It becomes heritage, healing, and identity.

Mo Carries EVOO in His Bag Like It’s Medicine

Early in the series, there’s a moment that had real EVOO lovers everywhere nodding: Mo pulls a bottle of extra virgin olive oil from his bag, like it’s a first-aid kit, a comfort object, and a seasoning solution all in one.

He doesn’t explain it. He doesn’t need to.

For a guy who’s constantly on the move—undocumented, displaced, straddling cultures—olive oil is home. It’s the one thing he controls, and the one thing that connects him back to his roots, even as everything around him feels unstable.

That little bottle of green-gold is more than food. It’s safety.

Mo’s Mom Making Olive Oil From Scratch — A Scene for the Ages

Let’s talk about that scene.

You know the one: Mo’s mother—played brilliantly by Farah Bsieso—is standing in the kitchen with a small grinder, cold-pressing olives by hand, slowly producing a tiny stream of oil. It’s tender. It’s unpolished. And it’s devastatingly real.

She doesn’t use a slick machine. There’s no fanfare. Just olives, pressure, and love.

This isn’t just a cooking moment. It’s a ritual. A cultural act of defiance. She’s saying: Even here, in Houston, thousands of miles from Palestine, I will keep our traditions alive.

This is what olive oil means to so many of us. It’s not a garnish—it’s a lifeline. It’s what gets passed down when you can’t bring anything else with you. And for refugees, that’s often the case.

That one scene did more for real olive oil than a dozen documentaries ever could.

Olive Oil As Medicine, Tradition, and Identity

Throughout the show, we see Mo’s family use olive oil for everything:

  • Cooking? Obviously.
  • Healing a burn? EVOO.
  • Calming nerves? Have some bread, pour some oil.
  • Spiritual cleansing? Yep—olive oil, always.

It reflects something many of us know intimately: EVOO is not just a culinary staple—it’s cultural glue.

In Levantine households, it’s what you eat, what you trust, and what you use when nothing else works. Mo’s mom isn’t being quirky when she uses olive oil for healing—she’s passing down centuries of knowledge. And Mo carrying it with him? That’s not a gag. That’s reverence.

Mo Makes Olive Oil Emotional

What’s remarkable is how seamlessly the show makes EVOO part of the emotional narrative:

  • When Mo feels disconnected, he grabs food soaked in oil.
  • When he’s struggling with identity, his mother’s oil-making brings him back.
  • When things fall apart, olive oil shows up as a symbol of continuity.

It’s never preachy. Never explained. But that’s what makes it so powerful. If you know, you know.

And for those who don’t? Mo quietly shows them how one bottle of real EVOO can carry flavor, memory, and resistance all at once.

Mo is one of the few shows I’ve ever seen that gets olive oil right. It’s not about trendy infusions or expensive tasting rooms. It’s about the soul of the thing.

It’s about a Palestinian mother pressing olives by hand, because that’s what her grandmother did. It’s about a man carrying EVOO through checkpoints, into diners, across borders, because it’s the one thing they couldn’t take from him.

If you haven’t watched Mo yet—do. And when you do, look out for the oil. It’s not just a detail. It’s a story.

And for those of us who live by the bottle—who know the smell of fresh-pressed Picual or the bite of a Koroneiki on the back of your throat—it’s a reminder of why we fight for the real stuff.

This show? It’s for us.

Luca

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general-discussion mo-netflix olive-oil-culture palestinian-foodways real-evoo representation-matters