Maltese stars - where to find Jewish heritage in Malta

It’s Erev Shabbat in Sliema, a resort that’s famous for its beaches, boating and water sports, and one of Malta’s most popular places to stay. But that’s not what brings us here on this mild evening.

Three millennia after Jewish mariners first arrived along with Phoenician explorers — and 500 years since its once thriving community was decimated during the Inquisition — Jewish life in 21st century Malta is undergoing something of a renaissance. And Sliema is its epicentre.

Sitting at an extremely long table in the home of Rabbi Chaim and Rebbetzin Mushka Segal, with eight children and a couple who’ve flown in from Israel for the first Jewish wedding on the island in 50 years, Rabbi Chaim recounts how the community has burgeoned since they moved to Malta in 2012.

There are now regular Shabbat and Yom Tov services, a Hebrew school, adult education programmes and a summer camp, while many conversos whose ancestors were forced to convert to Catholicism are rediscovering their Jewish roots.

The Segals are currently fundraising to convert an old post office into a Jewish Centre, complete with synagogue and kosher restaurant; until then, Rebbetzin Mushka has kosher meat flown in from Sicily.

This talk of roots and conversos inspires us to book a walking tour of Mdina (pronounced Um-dinah), the island’s oldest city, about half an hour’s drive inland.

Mdina Gate (1) CREDIT MTA Mario Galea

Gate into Mdina (Photo: MTA/Mario Galea)

We meet our guide at the City Gate whose golden ramparts and triumphal arch immediately remind me of Jerusalem — no coincidence since the local limestone used in Mdina is geologically the same as Jerusalem stone.

As we pass the Inquisitor’s Palace, now a museum, our guide Nadine reveals that a third of Mdina’s population was once Jewish.

In medieval times Jewish men were responsible for supplying the oil in the street lamps which exempted them from guard duty. Until the Inquisition, when its Jewish residents were enslaved, forced to convert, or fled for their lives.

The Silent City, as locals call Malta’s former capital, is perfectly preserved and impossibly picturesque. We’re not surprised to learn it has featured regularly as a filming location, from The Count of Monte Cristo to Game of Thrones. Along the narrow stone-flagged streets near the heart of the city we come to the Old Jewish Quarter.

At Carmel Street, despite being labelled as ‘synagogue’ on Google maps, sadly all that remains today in this once thriving centre of Jewish life is a sign on a house reading The Old Jewish Silk Market.

Silk Market sign in Mdina CREDIT Judi Rose

Silk market sign in Mdina (Photo: Judi Rose)

We pause on the ramparts to take in the wonderful views towards the Mediterranean — on a clear day you can see Sicily — then pass down through a gloomy passage through the city walls known as the Jews’ Gate, the only entrance through which Jews and slaves were once permitted to enter Mdina.

Five minutes down the hill is Mdina’s historic twin, Rabat, home to a burial complex that dates back to the Phoenicians. Several catacombs feature a menorah suggesting that Jews and Christians once buried their dead in common ground.

Rabat is also an excellent place to sample pastizzi, an iconic Maltese pasty of shatteringly crisp pastry filled with lightly spiced peas, mushrooms or irkotta, a creamy fresh cheese.

Back in the current capital, Valletta, you can find the same golden stone as Jerusalem and Mdina. Perched on a hilly peninsula between two of the Mediterranean’s finest natural harbours, it was founded by the Knights of the Hospital of Saint John of Jerusalem in 1571, we enter through another imposing gate.

In similar fashion to Mdina, you also can find another gate called the Jew’s Sally Port, the only place where Jewish sailors and residents were allowed to enter and leave the city.

Inside the walls, 16th century townhouses with painted gallarijas, or covered wooden balconies, rub shoulders with Baroque palaces, Victorian squares, and an array of international shops, including a branch of M&S opened in the 50s by a prominent Maltese Jewish family.

valletta-street-ferenc-horvath-9cYiqVDeXDc-unsplash

Street in Valletta (Photo: Unsplash)

In the side streets we discover artisan chocolate makers, old-fashioned greengrocers and local shops with store fronts unchanged since the British were here back in the 1940s.

Like the history of the island itself, Maltese food is a fascinating fusion of the cultures and civilisations which have conquered or occupied the island over the centuries — Phoenician, Arab, Sicilian, French, Italian and British.

We head down a flight of stairs into an old bakery, complete with huge wood-fired oven, that now houses a restaurant and small museum. Here artisan baker Nenu Debono introduces us to the joys of ftira; a uniquely Maltese flatbread made with nothing but flour, salt and water.

Left to ferment overnight, the naturally risen dough is then topped with fresh herbs, vegetables, sesame seeds, sometimes cheese, and baked in a fiercely hot oven until crisp and golden. Think pizza on steroids.

Keen to share family traditions passed down through generations, Nenu runs ftira-making workshops for local children, and agrees to let me and my son have a go. A mound of dough appears, which Nenu explains is also used for Ħobz tal-Malti, a crusty round loaf with a dense, chewy texture.

After energetic kneading and stretching under Nenu’s supervision, we choose our toppings. My son opts for rosemary and potato, I go for another traditional choice of broad beans and irkotta, and half an hour later we’re tucking in.

Ftira - Traditional Pizza CREDIT MTA

Ftira (Photo: MTA)

Across the Grand Harbour lies the village of Il-Kalkara — to get there, choose between an exhilarating ride by catamaran ferry or a more laid-back journey in a Maltese gondola — with its own slice of Jewish heritage. In the street behind the 17th century townhouse we’re staying in, we discover the earliest surviving Jewish cemetery in Malta.

It’s currently closed to the public and in disrepair, but the mayor, Michael Cohen, is spearheading a project to refurbish the cemetery and turn it into a museum celebrating the Jewish history of Malta. For now, a stay is a chance to enjoy a taste of local life, as well as to spot one of the biggest guns ever made at Fort Rinella, a 19th century 100-ton Armstrong gun.

From Il-Kalkara, you can stroll round the bay to Birgu, one of The Three Cities, as the fortified towns on the peninsulas overlooking the Grand Harbour are known.

Confusingly, each city has two names — an “old” one and one given to celebrate their pivotal role in defending Malta against Suleiman the Magnificent and his 40,000 strong armada in 1565. Birgu appears on most maps by its “new” name, Vittoriosa.

Crossing the stone bridge and passing through the city gate, we enter a maze of medieval streets, palaces and hidden courtyards.

Like Il-Kalkara and the other towns on this side of the harbour, there are few hotels but numerous places to eat along the waterfront, plus another Inquisitor’s palace and the Malta at War museum.

Street in Birgu IMG 4297

Street in Birgu (Photo: Judi Rose)

Beyond the shops and cafes, near a flight of stone steps we spot Triq tal-Lhud — the street of the Jews — a remnant of what was once Birgu’s ghetto.

Close by sits Tal-Petut, a tiny restaurant inside another seventeenth-century townhouse. There’s no menu but ebullient chef-patron Don Caligari whips us up a bespoke feast of locally-sourced produce. A platter of spreads and salads including bigilla, a vibrant broad bean dip with warm spices and a texture not unlike charoset is followed by fresh pasta, locally caught fish and home-grown vegetables drizzled with oil from Don’s olive groves.

We finish with gelat Malti, cinnamon and lemon-infused ice cream served with imqaret, Maltese honey and date fritters, and watch the sun go down over the marina. It’s a perfect way to end our stay on this Mediterranean jewel, which the Phoenicians called Malat or safe harbour.

For me, the Greek name is just as appropriate: melite — honey-sweet.