The Beauty of Simple Things

Some things never go out of style. Bread, olive oil, and salt—it doesn't get simpler or more satisfying than that.

I come from a family of incredible cooks and chefs. Processed food never stood a chance in our kitchen. We’ve always believed in the beauty of whole, honest ingredients.

In my early twenties, I lived in Paris, spoiled by the abundance of world-class boulangeries. One day, my uncle—Bernard Clayton Jr., a renowned author from Bloomington, Indiana—invited me to join him on a visit to one of his planned stops for a book he was writing called The Breads of France.

At the time, I didn’t grasp the significance of the place we were visiting: Boulangerie Poilâne, led by none other than Pierre Poilâne himself.

We arrived at 8 rue du Cherche-Midi, and were warmly welcomed past a line of regulars eager for their daily sourdough. Down into the cellar we went, the scent of baking bread thick in the air—one of those smells that stays with you for life.

My uncle and Pierre spoke the same language—the language of bread. I watched as they engaged in a deep conversation about the baking process, the craft, the history.

Then came the moment I’ll never forget: Pierre tore off a piece of warm sourdough, dipped it in extra virgin olive oil, and finished it with a pinch of French sea salt.

That was it. Bread, oil, salt.

So simple. So perfect.

That moment stuck with me. It reminded me that joy doesn’t have to be complicated. Sometimes, it’s just about honoring the basics and letting them shine.

Now, all these years later, I find myself in the olive oil business—helping others rediscover the beauty of simplicity. I often think about that day in Paris. I know Pierre would have appreciated The Virgin Organic.

Tragically, Pierre and his wife died in a helicopter accident in 2002. Their daughter, Apollonia, just eighteen at the time, took over the business. She’s carried the torch brilliantly, and the bakery continues to thrive. Her book, Poilâne, is a must-read for anyone who appreciates the art and soul of breadmaking.

To me, this is what TVO is all about. Sharing something pure. Something lasting. Something that reconnects us to what really matters.