Loaf Divine & Work of Human Hands

A soft, holey core cocooned in a crusty shell. Its rugged, rustic looks perfectly mirror the sinewy muscles and dexterous, grassroots hands that knead the dough into shape, oversee its baking until it is pulled out from what seems like a distant cousin of a cave.

A mere whiff of a genuine Maltese loaf of bread (that’s ħobża Maltija without flour treatment agents and additives) makes you salivate. Its aroma evokes all the enjoyment of digging into something scrumptious seconds after having been embraced and kissed by a loving family. Its taste – whether simply buttered up, or piled high with favourite bits and bites – is a taste of heaven. More so, if it has been smeared with sun-kissed, summer tomatoes, dunked in top-notch olive oil and dressed with a concoction of olives, capers, onions, beans, pickled veggies, fresh basil or mint, and tuna. Munch it on the beach, down it with a glass of wine … and you are in paradise regained. It’s a sure bet that traditional Maltese bread will win over the most skeptic foodies.

So why is it on the verge of extinction?

The answer lies in a lack of love and appreciation for the authentic ħobża aggravated by our unwillingness to save it; the surging popularity of fancy bread and … living in the 21st century, where consumers gawk at the very thought of having to slice a loaf themselves. They are also quick to point out that Maltese bread gives you undesirable waistlines. Ironically several naysayers binge on fast-food and shun exercise with the consequence of being awfully overweight. The irony of the situation appears to be totally lost on them.

Admittedly, it is tough trying to undo a deeply ingrained misconception. Yet it will take much more to save the delectable Maltese loaf of bread.

Getting curious to discover it is the first baby-step. The confident stride will ensue if its authentic production and marketing are tangibly supported as a certified and registered genuine Maltese product as well as by seeking UNESCO world heritage status (as has already been suggested). No doubt, such production will entail a higher price than its poor imitations because its rarity has now rendered it an exclusive artisan type of bread. Contrary to perception, there is a market for the real hobza Maltija.

Apart from the crucial mix of flour, salt, top-quality water, tinsila (a bit of yesterday’s dough) must be the secret, magical ingredient. I love the concept of continuity behind this because it’s like creating ongoing generations of families. The traditional Maltese ħobża must be baked in a cooking chamber shaped like a hollow dome and paved in soft limestone stone slabs. Often covered by infill, it is likely to have a double wall with a central void to insulate the oven interior. A handful of these indigenous bakeries still exist, and not only in Qormi, the locality that owes its very existence to centuries of bread baking; and in fact was known as Casal Fornaro. Quality control should, therefore, be much easier given the few extant traditional bakeries.

The baking process also needs to be kept under the lens. Wood is used to heat the chamber which explains why the indigenous oven takes the name of tal-ħattab. Heating (tkebbisa) is a slow two-hour process. The fire is then extinguished, and the oven is ready to be loaded with all the goodies that need baking. The stone gradually releases the accumulated heat to ensure a proper baking. (The traditional Maltese loaf takes up to forty-five minutes of cooking time). Such stone ovens can continue to operate for twelve hours after the fire has been put out, which explains the distinct rhythm of a baker’s life.

Get talking to one of the traditional bakers and you are in for a treat as he explains the process while naming all the components of the oven structure and the implements he handles with evident pride and passion.

A type of flat, long-handled shovel called il-pala immediately catches the eye; as does il-palun, its larger version. Both are used to load the dough and unload the piping hot loaves.

All this is a far cry from the more cost-efficient electric ovens which most bakeries opted for way back in the ‘70s. Unlike then, Maltese bread no longer dominates our daily intake of food. Dietary reasons have many people give it a miss. Furthermore, Maltese bread now contends with strong competition in the form of tonnes of locally mass-produced and imported frozen bread, which is warmed up on the spot and sold as ‘fresh’ bread at supermarkets. Even the fact that it is not sliced, is putting consumers off. True that imitations of the Maltese ħobza (read no crispy crust, no finger-poking holes) are available in slices but this is the kind of convenience that dents the full flavor of the genuine article.

The annual bread festival in Qormi may showcase the traditional bakery in all its glory, but the latter is clearly living through its swansong. The death of the authentic Maltese bread loaf means that this part of Malta will also be gone, and gone forever. I can’t help feeling that this extinction mirrors the wholesale destruction of what once made my beloved rock such a wonderful place to live in.

This somber thought adds a melancholic whiff to the magic of stepping inside an indigenous bakery partaking of its peculiar sounds, watching a fine film of flour settle on every surface including the tip of your nose, while the fragrance of freshly baked bread saturates everything within reach and hits the street like a lingering refrain.



We might not give much thought to bread, yet it infiltrates different aspects of our culture. As in all western countries and the Middle East, bread is the primary staple food whose wholesomeness and delight defies the strictest of diet regimes. It indeed must be a misery for most people who suffer from specific chronic disease, or allergy, to cut it out completely from their eating habits.

Proverbs and popular sayings show how bread is linked to wealth and well-being and it has a particularly strong symbolic role in the Christian religion since bread is the very embodiment of the body of Christ. No countdown to Easter in Malta would be complete without the sizeable bread ring coated in sesame seeds and punctured with a handful of almonds. Known as the Apostles’ Ring, it flies off the shelves within seconds of having been stacked.

Up to about fifty years ago, specific types of bread were associated with the cult of some saints. The bread bun dedicated to Saint Martin lives on as the most popular. His feast day falls on November 11 and is celebrated on the second Sunday of November – often a warm and sunny weekend which Maltese people call Saint Martin’s summer, the equivalent of an Indian summer. Curiously, people from Siggiewi big devotees of Saint Nicholas) used to make Saint Nicolas’s bread. This was believed to give healing powers to water in which it was immersed.

All this provides a stark contrast with the ordinariness we associate with bread and its consumption.


Noemi Zarb
Noemi Zarb
Writing, teaching, marketing. I have pursued three totally different career paths with the power of words serving both as link and lynchpin. Now I dedicate most of my time to writing - a never-ending romance. Typical of content writing I have been and am still responsible for scripting webs, advertorials as well as full-length articles. As a feature/opinion writer, I have over 600 articles published in Malta's leading newspapers and magazines (and still counting) - an experience which honed my interviewing skills when I interviewed countless painters and people involved in the performance arts. I also have over two decades of teaching English Literature and Critical Thinking via Textual Analysis under my belt having prepared students for the IB Diploma in English Language and Literature as well as MATSEC, IGCSE and SEC examinations in English language and English Literature. TEFL sometimes punctuated my summer holidays. Dealing with young people keeps you young and I have truckloads of cherished memories of my past students My current writing continues to be inspired by what life throws at me together with my critical thinking of what goes on (or doesn’t) around me firing my sense perception and vice versa. Being immersed in the corporate world gives me endless opportunities to observe facets of human behavior which invariably have me brood over. Learning and thinking over what I learn is still my way forward.

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  1. Wonderful article Naomi! First, my mouth is watering for a taste of this special bread that I have never heard of before. I believe wholeheartedly that food and really every meal can be a sensual, soul-nourishing experience. I love to cook and I am known for my special soups in my family. The reason why they are special is that all of my ingredients are organic and the water I use is pure. I hand cut every vegetable and the soups simmer for a long time on the stove filling my home with their souls’ essence that floats into every nook and cranny. But the most important ingredient in my soups is LOVE! I intentionally put love into pot with every stir I make. When I give someone a recipe to try they always come back and say it is not as good as mine. They sometimes suggest I may have left an ingredient out – too funny. I should add to the recipe cards to add a dose of love. Many of the food traditions that are fading away are because we have automated life. This can get a lot of things done faster, but we lose the critical ingredient of love that goes into the process. From the specially built ovens to the time-consuming purer ingredients and labor, the soul of food is birthed. I am sad to hear that this wonderful tradition is being lost. Also, I discovered a few years ago that there is a misunderstanding about our relationship with food. Our bodies are extremely intelligent vessels that can process food in a way that uses what the body needs and discards the rest. Since I adopted this faith in my body, I have been able to eat whatever I want without gaining a pound. It does require valuing your body enough to give it purer food, but it is the act of loving the experience of eating good food and staying present in the experience. Good food can be an organic soup or heavenly chocolate cake at a celebration! This is why traditionally sitting down with family and friends and sharing a meal together in appreciation for the food and each other creates uplifting enriching memories. I hope there is a way to restore the tradition of your Maltese bread. It is a loss for all of us. Thank you for sharing this with us.

    • Wonderful to hear about the love you put into your cooking. You remind me so much of my late father whose love for cooking was his love for us. Even a simple sandwich tasted special when he made it. As for meeting around a table, there is no better family celebration. Thank you for your time and fulsome comments.

  2. Quite a delectable piece you’ve written my dear friend. How you can take one of the most ordinary, yet ubiquitous, of items and color it with such magic is beyond me. By the way, it’s now on my bucket list to try some of that bread. I’m going to have to book a speaking gig on your Rock very soon.

    • Not as difficult as you think to find the extraordinary in the ordinary. Thank you, John, for your heartfelt appreciation, and of course, you are very welcome to visit my Rock.

  3. What a delicious article! I’m celiac so I can’t indulge in the decadent taste of most freshly-baked bread, but that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy it! I love to breathe in the fragrance of bread fresh out of an oven, to feel the warm yeastiness flood my olfactory senses. As I inhale the aroma, my eyes close and my mind revels in the scents of crust, salt, butter, and wheat… my mouth is watering just thinking of it! I know many people in many cultures who hold onto the art of fresh baked bread (challah bread is one of the most beautiful breads to smell…), and I hope that some day the art of the Maltese loaf will resurge so I can experience that, too!

    • Thank you. Elena, for your time and appreciation. You’ve just reminded me of an MFK Fisher quotation: ‘The smell of good bread baking, like the sound of lightly flowing water, is indescribable, in its evocation of innocence and delight.’ Silly me I did not think of it earlier on but I am still pleased to share it now.

  4. Excellent article, dear Noemi, which made me actually hungry and curious of this heavenly Maltese bread …

    I also appreciated the love, the care and the traditional way of making it !

    Keep the good work, Noemi : you make us dream and reflect and remember…

    • Heavenly it certainly is and like any traditionally baked bread should make us acknowledge the extraordinary in the ordinary – an epiphany in fact. Thank you ever so much, Manuela, for your time and heartfelt appreciation.

    • Great to hear that you love bread Larry and I’m sure that your memories also bring back what a wonderful meal it makes and the joy of sharing it. Thank you for your time and comments.

  5. Thank you Noemi for beautifully conveying the process of this historical dietary staple. Without bread, which is taken for granted in my neck of the words, our ancestors would have not survived. As usual, you take us on another equisetum journey with your use of words.?

    • Thank you, Darlene, for your time and appreciation. Taking things for granted is sadly in our nature. I know it’s a cultural influence, but as far as bread goes, I feel it’s much more than a staple for it is one of those kneaded things which links the mundane and the spiritual.

  6. Funny thing is Noemi, I was discussing the cravings for Maltese bread I have, and that I have to remind myself that bakeries here in Melbourne that will even bake an equivalent are few and far between. As the saying goes, we don’t know what we have until it’s gone, and sadly, as you say, this may be one of them – another of the little identifiers that we associate with Malta, its culture and our ancestors. – Jason

    • I feel that families in many countries have been deluding themselves that tradition is mere whimsy, or old hat and therefore not worth bothering about to the extent that young ones will not even miss what is lost. Seduced by or overwhelmed with today’s so-called progress, we no longer live the family and communal spirit. This I feel is the problem. Thank you, Jason, for your time and comments. Always appreciated.

  7. I’m hungry…and I appreciate good food. A great leader and an excellent baker are very much the same. It is with great care and responsibility that they utilize the strengths of the ingredients and when to add , mix, etc….to master takes time, to stop is incomplete.. than’ you for this essay ..descriptive and succulent…I’m still hungry. Thank you. Paula

    • You are so right in saying that an excellent baker is a great leader and a radiant example of a labour of love. Hope you’ve satisfied your hunger pangs in the meantime!. Thank you for your time and appreciation.

  8. Wonderful essay, Noemi, on the soul and history of bread. It made me hungry not just for this incredible taste but for the loving hands that made this bread and the sense of culture and community behind it. I hope to get to your lovely island of Malta one day.

    • My mum says that her mum called hands ‘mgharef tal-fidda’ which is Maltese for silver spoons. The work of human hands is always a labour of love and radiates the warmth of a sense of touch – something which we are sadly losing on all fronts. Thank you for your time and comments. Much appreciated and you are very welcome to my rock.