Some names are chosen for branding.
Ours was chosen for belonging.

“Bregu Lofatave” means The Slope of the Judas Trees. It’s not a metaphor. It’s the name of the actual hill where our olive grove grows, just above the coast in southern Albania.

These hills are more than coordinates. They are part of the soul of this land, sunlit slopes overlooking the Ionian Sea, where ancient trees and wild herbs grow without effort or instruction.

When we began this journey, we didn’t have a farming past. We had memories.

Memories of childhood summers in Radhimë, of resting beneath old olive branches at our grandmother’s house. Of climbing wild hills and watching the horizon shift with the light. Of hearing stories that connected land to legacy.

This place, Risili, lies just beyond the noise. No hotels. No cement. Only sky, sea, rock, and time.

Among the olive trees, the Lofata still grow, tall, purple-flowering trees known elsewhere as Judas Trees. They are not cultivated. They are simply there, like they always have been.

It felt wrong to call the farm anything else. This wasn’t a brand to invent. It was a place to honor.

And so we named it after what was already true.

Bregu Lofatave. A name that speaks to the slope, the trees, and the decision to root ourselves in something real.

Because when your name is tied to the land, you carry its weight, and its dignity, with every bottle.