From Saint Bartholomew to San Bortolo
Seča, where our family home stands, was once called San Bartolomeo. Locals affectionately shortened it to San Bortolo — the name we gave our oil, to keep the memory of this place and its people alive. We spend hot afternoons in the shade of the olive trees, listening to cicadas, watching the sky mirror itself in the nearby salt pans. That stillness is part of every bottle.
I spend hot afternoons in the shade of the olive trees. Their slender leaves dance in the gentle breeze, keeping time with the song of the cicadas that fills the ear without pause. My eyes rest on the salt-pan fields. The blue reflected there is a mirror image of the sky. How many times I've lost myself watching it, following the clouds past an olive branch, to learn what weather was coming …
It brought me joy to catch a drop of rain in my palm, so precious to our Istrian soil. With that same hand I stroked the branch, leaving on it a trace of softness, a scent of oil.
A noble taste is woven from this tradition.
With San Bortolo olive oil, we wish to share it with you.
Close your eyes, breathe in, listen to your heart, gather a little sun in your hand, and taste San Bortolo olive oil.
This is Istria.