If I could live anywhere in the world, Corfu would win without competition. I’m here right now, in the middle of a glorious week on this magnificent island, and I’m already dreading the moment I have to leave. One week feels laughably short. Next time, I’m negotiating several weeks, maybe months.
Here’s the thing about Corfu that nobody quite prepares you for: it’s green. Outrageously, extravagantly, almost offensively green. If you’ve been to other Greek islands — Santorini, Mykonos, Rhodes — you know the drill: stunning, dramatic, sun-bleached white and golden brown as far as the eye can see. Beautiful, absolutely. But Corfu threw out that rulebook entirely. This island is draped in endless olive groves, tall swaying cypress trees, and rolling hills so lush they look like they belong somewhere in Tuscany rather than Greece. And then, just when you think it couldn’t get any better, those hills tumble down into the most breathtakingly clear, turquoise-blue sea you’ve ever laid eyes on.
The warm, slightly humid air hits you the moment you step off the plane and wraps around you like a welcome hug. Swimming in that crystal-clear sea every day — sometimes twice, sometimes three times — feels less like exercise and more like an absolute privilege. I walk steep hillside paths, drive the hilariously narrow, winding roads that somehow fit two cars if everyone holds their breath, and every single morning, I roll out my mat on the balcony for pilates or yoga while the island slowly wakes up around me, already warm before 8 am.
I was here in 2021 and spent every day completely enchanted. I had already followed a keto diet for years and even experimented with this cheesy keto bread recipe while staying in a stone-built mini villa. Since the villa didn’t have a microwave, I prepared fathead dough in a saucepan — a method that turned out to be so handy that I’ve used it ever since. I’ve been quietly obsessed with returning to Corfu ever since. Now I’m back, and Corfu is every bit as spectacular as I remembered — maybe even more so.
In this post, I’m stepping away from my usual recipes to tell you about my week in Corfu — what I ate, where I ate it, and why eating carnivore in Greece feels less like following a diet and more like living exactly the way I want to live.
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