It’s been almost a year since I wrote the original article, which blew up on social media.
In that article I unveiled the lies that many North American olive oil importing companies tell their customers in order to make more money delivering inferior product.
Many of the myths and lies surrounding olive oil, particularly as they relate to storage and extraction, have been carefully designed to maximize profits from unsuspecting consumers unfamiliar with the inner workings of extra virgin olive oil production.
How many “olive oil cabinets” have you come across?
I come from a family that owns nearly 8,000 olive trees on the Dalmatian coast of Croatia, and I can tell you, I’ve never come across a single, gold-plated olive oil display case.
When you look beyond the very modern, very masturbatory awards shows and sommelier schools that have cropped up in just the past few decades, olive oil generally doesn’t become more interesting the more money you make.
Last night I mowed down some seriously tasty Korean fried chicken.
I love spicy food and I can almost never say no to that super hot gochujang chili. I crushed plate after plate of sweet and sour hot wings, but it wasn’t until my bowels were heaving this morning that I stopped to think about what I actually put into my body.
Knedle are a very popular, quick Croatian dessert. They are basically just fried, potato-based donuts filled with whole pitted plums. We typically eat them at Church luncheons for dessert to go with coffee.
Last week we played around a little and mixed a bit of everything from the Mediterranean, including bread, cheese and olive oil, into a fusion eggs benedict. This time we’ll go with something a little more authentically Croatian, a Croatian flatbread.
This week’s snack is a simple and extra-flavorful homemade garlic and herb seasoned Croatian flatbread recipe. In Croatia, we call it lepinja. This flatbread is a great appetizer, snack or hors d’oeuvre for a party, and it’s a relatively quick recipe that can be ready in just under 45 minutes
The reason I chose dill for this recipe (it’s called kopar in Croatian) is because of how commonly it is grown in gardens in the old country. I fondly remember picking dill in the summers with my Baba on mornings where she would make fresh flatbread.
I’ve been eating palačinke for as long as I can remember. Some of my fondest memories eating food with family included waking up to these crispy thin sweets on a Sunday morning at Djedo Vido’s. My Baba Maria makes them too but Djed’s palačinke tasted as though they were blessed by the Virgin Mary herself.