OLIVE OIL HAS become such a prized item nowadays, as a high-end condiment and an agent of good health, that we are at some risk of forgetting its longtime role as a not very glamorous staple. In Roman times olive oil was fed to the slaves; citizens did not stoop that low. And when, inevitably in the hot Roman climate, olive oil turned rancid, it was burned to light the city at night. A double benefit here: the city was lit (Rome was one of three cities of antiquity so graced; the others were Ephesus and Alexandria), and rancid oil was put to its best use, since such oil, having lost much of its water, burned more brightly and clearly than its (slightly) more palatable, unspoiled relations.

You're unlikely to find any rancid olive oil at Oliviers and Co., the handsome olive-oil shop (part of a Provençe-based company) that opened in December on upper Fillmore (2208 Fillmore at Sacramento, 415-474-1408). You won't even find much in the way of olive-oil products meant to be used outside the kitchen, though there are a few: a fragrant bar of olive-oil soap ($5), shaped like a square with concave sides, and a tube of hand cream ($17).

If that seems on the pricey side, it's only because it is on the pricey side. (And if you really want to give yourself sticker shock on stuff like this, step across the street to L'Occitane, a related operation, where little tubes of face cream cost $25 or more. Vive la France.)

On the other hand, one of the glories of olive oil is that you don't need much or use it all that fast, so spending, say, $24 for a liter of Disisa oil, from Sicily, registers fairly modestly on the extravagance scale. (That oil is especially good for cooking vegetables and adding to soups.) And if Sicilian oil doesn't appeal, there are also offerings from around the Mediterranean, including olive oils from such well-known heavyweight producers as France, Spain, and Greece, as well as lesser-known areas like Galilee, Tunisia, and Istria (the Croatian region just south of Trieste). There's even an oil from beyond the Mediterranean, and it's not from California but Uruguay.

Most of Oliviers and Co.'s olive oils are proprietary – they are produced and packed specifically for the company and are available only through its outlets. (There are a few controlled-denomination varieties from France and a handful of protected-denomination specimens from Spain). That fact might make a visit worthwhile, particularly if your need is for a specific sort of olive oil, and you have money – if nothing else – to burn.