The konoba is a mythical place of the Mediterranean, and thus of every Dalmatian house. Today, when we say “konoba,” we think of a hospitality establishment that exudes tradition. Once, it was the main room in every house. It stored treasures, the fruits of all the work that a person prepared throughout the day, so that there would be enough for the entire year. If the konoba was full, a person could sleep peacefully, at least until morning, because in the morning they would have to work again.
In old Dalmatian houses, the konoba was located on the ground floor, preferably dug into the rock, to maintain the optimal temperature for storing all that treasure: oil, cheese, salted fish, and wine, which would be used to accompany everything. For special occasions, some prosciutto would hang from the beam. These regions have never been rich in grain, so people tried to produce as much wine as possible, so it could be sold and used to buy grain for bread. Hence all those stone piles on our island, many of which are now hidden from view. Wherever we encounter a pile, there used to be vineyards. It took a lot of effort to clear all that stone for a little earth, an entire pile for just a few vines. It was a hard life, which is why we call people who work in the fields “tezaci” (laborers).
The konoba could also remain empty, which would mean great trouble, hunger, and perhaps even death. Not so long ago, piracy was still present—imagine pirates raiding the village and emptying the konoba you had filled all year. Nearby, there was always a “merina,” where livestock was kept, both for food and as a faithful helper in one’s work. That’s why we refer to livestock as “blago” (wealth). The merina was the warmest room in the house, while the konoba was the coldest. Thus, both exude a special aroma, a unique atmosphere, and a feeling that we have returned to another time. And that time was not so long ago.
