Olio is a monthly meal and sporadic zine.
It’s about real food. Real, not in the sense that it’s kale as kale “ought to be,” but real in that it is true to itself. Through this lens, we explore restaurants and experiences that are alive. Alive in the same way a simmering pot of molten tomatoes is more living than a cold can of soup.
Olio recipes are hard to explain. Not because of their complexity but because we don’t have words to describe how simple they are. Our recipes are not precise but their innateness is.
Our restaurants are good. In one spot this fundamental goodness comes from a disheveled, sweaty owner. Sometimes it’s a flickering, dim-lit room with stone walls like a Greek taverna; or a fluorescent deli with big white tubs of by-the-pound olives.
All of this is to say that while we struggle to define what Olio is, we know it when we feel it. And we hope you do too.
“Try not to be a snobby douchebag. Because, let’s be honest, we’re still drinking alcohol.”
excerpt from olio issue #1; “Dirty wine”