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Welcome to our blog
Welcome to our blog
Discover fascinating facts about Gligora cheese, why it’s a symbol of Croatian tradition, how to choose the right cheese for every occasion, and how to savor the authentic taste of Pag Island.
A Journey into the Heart of Flavor: Experience Guided Tours at Gligora Dairy
Step behind the scenes at Gligora Dairy: Book a guided tour through our hidden aging cellars, enjoy a premium tasting session in the Cheese Bar, and discover the secrets behind Pag's liquid gold.
The Story Behind the Mascot: How an Old "Four" Built the Gligora Dairy
If you've ever visited one of our Gligora cheese & deli shops, you've surely noticed the motif of an old, red Renault 4. No, we didn't hire hipsters to do retro marketing for us. That car is a true legend of our family and business. To reveal the real truth about our mascot, we handed the keyboard over to our director, Šime Gligora. He briefly closed his Excel spreadsheets and decided to share the firsthand story with you. Šime, the floor is yours: Way back in 1989, my father was buying a new car. At the time, we were still living in Zadar, but he and my mom were already mentally packing their bags to return to his hometown of Kolan on the island of Pag. The choice came down to two models: the more modern Renault 5 and the proven classic – the Renault 4. Since returning to Kolan meant getting into agriculture (more as a hobby back then, rather than a business masterplan), the practicality of the legendary "Four" won. Besides, at that time in Kolan, every other yard had at least one R4. It was the unofficial island Jeep. My sister Marina and I didn't share this enthusiasm. We were, to put it mildly, devastated. Even in 1989, the car looked like it had escaped from the set of a black-and-white movie. The best proof of how bitter we were is the fact that we seriously missed our old Yugo! I mean, that Yugo constantly smelled of gasoline and regularly made me carsick, but hey – at least it looked more modern than that box. Little did we know that this "outdated" car would leave such a mark on our lives. The First (and Only) Official Company Vehicle When we moved to Kolan, my father ran it into the ground going from work to the fields. And then came the year 1994. My father started a small dairy in the basement of our house, and – you guessed it – our R4 became the first, only, and main official company vehicle. I remember him driving it in the middle of winter, during the worst blizzard, all the way to Karlovac just to register the company at the only competent commercial court at the time. Today, people won't go out for coffee if it's raining, but he was plowing through snowdrifts in a tin can on four wheels because – when you're starting from zero, you don't check the weather forecast. You just get in and drive. Everyone thinks the R4 is a small car, but you'd be surprised by what can fit inside. For its time, it had a massive trunk, and when you took the rear seats out, it transformed into a real cargo van. It hauled milk, whey, cheeses, tools... And when the first real van finally arrived at the company, our "Four" didn't go into a well-deserved retirement. It just got new assignments. Believe it or not, sheep used to catch a ride in it too. In short, I don't think there's a cargo in this world that this car hasn't tried to transport. Advanced Maintenance Philosophy: Put Gas in it and Drive Of course, the Renault 4 was also my first car. I did my first driving at around sixteen on dirt roads, and later came the nights out and teenage shenanigans that, for the sake of my personal reputation, we'll skip in this text. We didn't pamper it. There was no parking it in a garage, Sunday polishing, or shining it up for car shows. It was a pure workhorse. Our maintenance philosophy was highly advanced: put gas in it and drive. I remember when someone once casually asked me if I had changed its oil. I looked at them in sheer amazement: "Wait, this car uses oil too?!" And it drove. For years. In the end, we practically gave it away. It was completely exhausted, banged up, falling apart from all sides, but it still started and drove. I think that car simply didn't know how to die. The Return of the Legend to Kolan About twenty years later, nostalgia hit me. I started digging through classified ads, purely for fun, looking for a well-preserved R4. And then, right in the middle of Zadar, there it was: a red Renault 4 GTL. Almost identical to our old one. It had been sitting in a garage for thirty years, had only 22,000 kilometers on the clock, and looked like it had rolled off the assembly line yesterday. I called my father and told him in a single sentence: "We're going to buy it, no matter how much it costs." And so, the R4 returned to the family. It’s been with us for six years now. Today, he is a gentleman of a certain age. He only leaves the garage when it's sunny outside, and exclusively for coffee runs or a leisurely drive. He doesn't haul milk anymore. Or tools. And thank God, he no longer hauls sheep. Today, he only hauls memories. The best moment happened when I first brought it back from Zadar. I handed the keys to my father and said: "Go on, take mom for a spin around Kolan." They got in, took it for a drive, and came back. Everything was great. But as my father handed the keys back, he looked at me and said seriously: "Listen, Šime. You drive it, but I won't anymore. This car reminds you of your good old youth and fooling around, but it reminds me of the hardest days of my life." I think the entire point lies in that sentence. The exact same piece of sheet metal carries completely different stories. To me, the R4 is a symbol of youth and carefreeness. To my father, it's a symbol of uncertainty, sweat, and those days when we were trying to build something out of nothing. More Than Just Marketing And there you have it—that is exactly why the little red Renault 4 is the mascot of our Gligora cheese & deli shops today. Not because it’s "vintage," "retro," or cute for Instagram. It’s there to keep us grounded. Today, our dairy is large, our trucks are modern, and our cheeses travel much farther than the old "Four" ever could have reached. But we don't want to forget where we started. Before all those refrigerated trucks, world awards, and a modern webshop, there was just a tin can on four wheels, a whole lot of stubbornness, and an incredible will to work. Back then, that was everything to us. And as it turned out – it was all we needed.
From Pag's Karst to the Global Throne: The Complete Awards and Recognitions of Sirana Gligora
Sirana Gligora is not just the pride of Pag Island, but a global champion whose excellence spans decades. Explore this comprehensive, officially verified chronicle of world championship titles, stars, and medals that have launched our cheeses to the absolute pinnacle of global gastronomy.
The Heritage of Pag Cheesemaking: How Bura, Sheep, and Man Carved a Legend
There are products you buy not just for the flavor, but for the story that flows through them. On Pag Island, that story is carved by the poetry of nature, history, and the generations who lived in symbiosis with this stone. The founder of Sirana Gligora, Ivan Gligora, captured the very soul of this island in a few timeless, poetic lines: Paški sir is the beleca (beauty) of sage and immortelle, wormwood and rockrose, gorse and wild fennel, salted by the storms of two bays, sought out among the babulji (stones) by Biliška and Mrkuša, Kaloka and Rogulja, Ćala and Pećara. — Ivan Gligora His son, Šime Gligora, continues his father's verses by explaining the secret recipe of Croatia's most famous indigenous cheese: "The bura wind, the sheep, the man. And the Island of Pag." 1. The Holy Trinity of Pag: Wind, Sheep, and Man On Pag, only the strongest and most resilient survive. This barren karst is the result of a unique climate clash where the mild Mediterranean air meets the freezing continental climate of the Velebit mountain peaks. The Bura Wind (Capricious yet Essential): This powerful northern wind crashes down the slopes of Velebit. In the blink of an eye, it turns the sea's surface into a boiling mist of tiny droplets, drying them into sea-salt dust (posolica). The bura scatters this salt across the island from two bays: the Velebit Channel and Pag Bay. This salty dust acts like boiling water on weak vegetation. Only exceptionally hardy, aromatic plants like sage (slavulja), immortelle, wormwood, rockrose, and wild fennel survive, concentrating miraculous aromatic substances within themselves. The Pag Sheep (The Indigenous Warrior): Our sheep—affectionately named Biliška, Mrkuša, Ćara, Pećara, Rogulja, and Kaloka—have withstood the bura for centuries. They roam freely across the pastures, searching for these aromatic herbs hidden among the rocky terrain (babulji). Completely adapted to the island's harsh conditions, they gave man their wool, hide, meat, and ultimately—liquid gold for cheese. The Man (The Dawn Struggle): Alongside the sheep, man managed to survive. But creating Paški sir—the true beleca (beauty) of Pag—is no easy feat. It is a history of waking up before dawn, building dry-stone walls, hand-milking, and daily cheese-turning in the cellar. A perpetual question remains: who is stronger—the bura, the island, the sheep, or the man? 2. A Millennia-Old History: From the Liburnians to Fortis The tradition of cheesemaking on Pag is likely as old as sheep farming itself. The first shepherds on the island were the Liburnians, an Iliryan tribe who settled here around 800 BC. Even today, right above our village of Kolan, stands one of the best-preserved Liburnian dry-stone hillforts. However, we owe the first official written record of this delicacy to the Italian travel writer Alberto Fortis. In his famous 1774 travelogue “Travels Into Dalmatia,” he noted that the most significant products of Pag were sea salt, sage honey, wool, and—cheese. 3. From Shepherds' Huts to the Hands of Women Until the beginning of the 20th century, Pag cheese was produced out in the wilderness, far from the villages. Shepherds from Kolan lived and worked in stone huts built of dry-stone walls, known as stani. These were thatched with reeds from the nearby Kolan field. It was the men who tended to the sheep, milked them, and made the cheese on-site. Everything changed at the turn of the 20th century: Pastures became private property. Owners enclosed their lands with massive dry-stone walls (suhozidi), which laced the hills like the famous Pag lace, dividing them into paths and narrow passes. Shepherds abandoned the stani huts and returned to the village of Kolan, and the art of household cheesemaking was proudly taken over by women. It was during this time that Paški sir slowly but surely evolved from a simple food of survival into a highly prized market commodity and a crucial source of income for island families. 4. Guardians of Tradition in the Modern Era We have come a long way from village households and the first agricultural cooperatives. Today, the vast majority of this limited, premium product is crafted in modern, registered facilities, such as our dairy in Kolan. Gligora blends generations of guarded tradition with state-of-the-art technology, collaborating with over 200 subcontractors. Yet, despite modern machinery, the essence remains untouched. Every time you taste a piece of our cheese, you are tasting the exact same beleca that the Liburnians claimed from the stone, that Fortis praised in his journals, and that the bura wind and Pag sheep have faithfully created for centuries.
From a Garage to World Champion: The Inspiring History of Sirana Gligora
Every great masterpiece has a story of resilience behind it, and Gligora cheese is no exception. The history of Sirana Gligora is deeply intertwined with the life path, sacrifice, and unbreakable spirit of its founder, Ivan Gligora, and his family. It is a tale of a destiny that couldn't be escaped, a garage that birthed a revolution, and a family that put the small village of Kolan on the global gastronomic map. 1. An Accidental Destiny: Inheriting the Love for the Karst Ivan Gligora was born in 1950 into a hardworking, humble family in Kolan on Pag Island—in a house that still stands right next to the modern dairy today. Though his grandfather Frane (affectionately known as Franeša) began crafting Paški sir back in 1918, passing the passion down to Ivan’s parents, Šimun and Evica, young Ivan initially dreamed of a different path. He had a strong talent for humanities and literature and moved to Rijeka for high school. However, when financial hardships forced him to leave his studies, destiny stepped in. The Newspaper Clip That Changed Everything: Quite by accident, Ivan spotted a newspaper advertisement. Zagrebačka mljekara (Zagreb Dairy) was offering scholarships for dairy technology students. Unable to escape his family's calling, Ivan enrolled in the only specialized dairy school with its own processing plant in the former Yugoslavia, located in Kranj, Slovenia. In 1970, as the only educated dairy technologist from the coastal region, he was sent back to his native Pag to work. 2. Tested by War and Hardship Seeking greater professional challenges, Ivan and his wife Marija moved to Zadar, where he spent 20 years at Mljekara Zadar, eventually rising to Head of Production. During the Croatian Homeland War in the 1990s, despite the city being under daily shelling, Ivan’s production team never stopped working, ensuring the citizens had fresh dairy every day. But the rugged stone of Pag kept calling him home. In 1993, he returned to the island with his wife and children, Marina and Šime. Driven by an unyielding creative spirit, Ivan and Marija made a brave, risky decision in 1994: they founded their own boutique dairy, Sirena – mala sirana, operating directly out of the basement and garage of their family home. 3. The Breakthrough: From the Basement to the World Stage The years between 1996 and 2002 were defined by immense sacrifice, fierce competition, and coming close to bankruptcy multiple times. Yet, Ivan knew that uncompromising quality was his only weapon. 2002: Ivan took Paški sir to Italy, winning the first major international award for a Croatian cheese. This spark ignited a flame; the Gligora brand quickly became synonymous with premium excellence. 2005: Ivan's son, Šime Gligora, joined the business right after graduating from the Faculty of Agriculture in Zagreb (specializing in dairy science). 2009: Together, the family crowned Ivan’s life work by building a brand-new, ultra-modern facility in Kolan. Funded partly by EU pre-accession funds, it became one of the most advanced boutique dairies of its size in the world. 4. Sirana Gligora Today: A Global Ambassador of Pag Following the massive investment in 2009, the world faced a major economic crisis, but Šime successfully navigated the market, expanding the brand internationally while protecting the traditions guarded for generations. Today, Sirana Gligora is a thriving, passionate family of professionals: Around 50 dedicated employees, from master cheesemakers to expert cheese mongers. Over 450 tons of cheese produced annually, including around 50 tons of the legendary Paški sir. Over 200 local subcontractors, sourcing authentic milk from Pag Island for Paški sir, and from Dalmatia, Lika, and Kordun for our other artisan varieties. Year after year, Gligora continues to take home the highest honors at global competitions like the World Cheese Awards, proudly flying the flag for Kolan and Pag Island across the globe. When you taste a piece of Gligora cheese, you aren't just tasting premium dairy—you are tasting a century of survival, passion, and triumph.
Where Coffee, Premium Cheese, and Breathtaking Views Meet: Visit Our Cheese & Coffee Bar
Experience the perfect blend of premium coffee, award-winning cheeses, and spectacular views of Kolanjsko polje at our Cheese & Coffee bar on the upper floor of Gligora Dairy.
Made with traditional recipes
100% natural ingredients
Award-winning quality
Made in Croatia
