24/10/2023
A Small Clarification/Rant about recent Maltese Hype
You might have seen that our recent post about our first birthday was picked up by Maltese media. For some reason, it went viral - at least on Maltese Facebook circles. To those who have sent their well wishes, thank you. Lots of old friends who didn’t know I opened a bakery have reached out to send their support, for which I’m truly grateful.
However, no journalist in any published article in the Maltese press about Hobz has ever contacted me to ask for details, to clarify anything, or even asked for permission before posting. We’ve had Maltese people come into the bakery who first gawk at me, then demand either ‘Maltese bread’, pastizzi, or anything other than the carefully produced selection of bread and pastries we offer. Some also get annoyed I’m the only Maltese person working in the bakery. We’ve also received over a hundred questions from both Maltese in Malta and in Scotland, most of which I’ve answered before and some of which are ignorant or just plain rude. This has been overwhelming, for all the wrong reasons. We’ve had to explain ourselves countless times over the last year, but because of this quasi-viral moment, my mental health has taken a hit. I’ve been working between 80 and 100 hours a week for the past year, and I cannot reply to each message individually. So here’s a little FAQ, but also rant.
Are you Maltese? Is Hobz a “Maltese” Bakery?*
Yep, I’m Maltese. Grew up there, my family is still in Malta. I’ve been living in the UK for the past 5 years. I started Hobz as a side gig, and as an escape from the hell of writing a PhD (which I later quit). Back then, I only made bread and sold it from my flat once a week. Bread literally changed my life. Hobz grew gradually and I also learned to love making pastries, of all sorts. I’ve spent almost 3 years building up the brand, which now has a decent recognition in Edinburgh.
No, we’re not a “Maltese” Bakery. We’re just a bakery. We take inspiration from Denmark, the US, classical French and Italian baking, and local Scottish baking. We’re still forming a creative identity. Some products we make are inspired by Malta, but we make whatever we want, and try to use whatever’s in season and local to us. We make our own version of ftajjar every day. We’ve made figolli in Easter and sfineg/zeppole in March. I’ve been wanting to make imqaret for ages, but we haven’t had the time or space to set up our fryer. Over the summer we had Hobz biz-Zejt on the counter. We were using local goat’s cheese, but it went out of season at the end of September, so it’s off the menu for now. So yes, a lot of what I and the team bake is inspired by Malta - most of all, bread. I grew up eating A LOT of bread. Which is why the following is said with a lot of thought.
*Do you make Maltese bread?*
This is probably going to anger a lot of people, but at this point I cannot care less. “Maltese” bread isn’t “the best in the world”, as most Maltese think. It’s built up to be a national treasure, without questioning the current state of the local industry. I once called it “sub-par” in an Instagram story and I still see complaints about it. To build it up as ‘the best’ is a result of small island mentality and ignorance. Bread in Malta used to be amazing. And, to be sure, it does still deserve recognition as one of the many significant leavened breads in culinary history. But this isn’t an either/or proposition: there’s more to bread than just quote on quote Maltese bread, on one side, and bad bread on the other.
All bread used to be very much like Maltese bread before the 20th century. It used to be naturally leavened (sourdough) or made with a preferment (aka “tnissila”, I think?). The way I understand it (though I might very well be wrong) is: commercial yeast became widely available in the 1910s/20s, and most bread in Europe and the US became commercialised, made on an industrial level, was made using only bleached, white flour, and sold as sliced soft mush in supermarket. For some reason, artisan, village bakeries in Malta stayed alive and were more resilient to change than in, say, the UK. Because of this, some form of dichotomy emerged between “Maltese bread” as the only ‘good’ bread, and all other bread as ‘bad’.
Everything went south when commercial bread manufacturers in Malta got greedy, and started making bread that looked very much like Maltese bread (think a white, batched hearth loaf burnt on the inside and fluffy on the inside) but added dough improvers, regulators and stabilisers, and used the cheapest flour available: bleached, white, roller-milled flour. This has become the mainstream. Yes, I’m sure there still are real bakers in Malta making real bread (think Qormi) and they are doing incredible work, but because most people aren’t going to spend more than €1 on bread, these real bakers - the ones who still care about their craft - will eventually die out. Baking real bread is hard physical work, requires long hours and therefore high labour costs, expensive equipment, and is highly skilled. Unless public perception is re-routed to value artisan bakers more, and pay them better for their work, Malta won’t have any real bakeries soon.
The recent resurgence in artisanal baking, mostly in the US and the UK, has in a huge way escaped Malta (I only know of one, Toghma - they do fantastic work, and I’m sure there are some others I haven’t heard of). Instead of a revival of small village bakeries, chains and supermarkets have latched on to the term “sourdough” and used it as a marketing ploy while also using commercial yeast and/or treatment agents. Real bread is just flour, water and salt, and is naturally leavened. Most commercial bakeries use pre-mixes - you’re not a real bakery if you do.
The bread I make at Hobz is what I and hundreds of other UK artisan bakers think is the future of bread: naturally leavened/sourdough, made with locally grown grains, using a wholegrain centric approach and milled fresh in house when possible. This is impossible in Malta: no bread making grain can be grown on the island. Most Maltese bread bakers get their flour from one local mill which imports grain from Canada (Manitoba flour) and Ukraine (but that’s probably changed now), or use Durum wheat from Italy. Malta cannot claim to have the best bread in the world if there is no local grain economy - which of course, because of climate and agricultural conditions, is almost impossible.
My point is: please don’t come to Hobz and be disappointed or angry that we don’t make ‘the traditional Maltese bread’ - or rather, a corrupted idea of what that bread is. We, and hundreds of other artisan bakers in the UK, make something much better. Something much healthier, with better texture, with better care for our finite resources, and with much more love.
*Do you make pastizzi?*
No.
*Will you ever make pastizzi?*
Possibly - it’s definitely something I would love to make. There are many reasons why we haven’t yet. Most importantly, I don’t want to rush into making pastizzi and screw it up. I respect the product too much.
I know the basics: sfogliatella with salted ricotta/peas. But I’ve never made sfogliatella, and though I’m sure with enough practice the Hobz team would make some very fine pastizzi, we simply don’t have the time. I’m working in the bakery for 12-14 hours a day, 6 days a week, plus business admin after work and on my day off. We have a core range of products that our customers want and which we need to make to keep the business afloat. As much as I’d love to spend my working day experimenting with new techniques and testing new recipes, I have to be selective with my time and focus on our core range (bread and viennoiserie). Not to mention that I have a dozen other projects and recipe test on the go at any given time. Also, every other day there’s at least one crisis that needs my attention: whether it’s faulty equipment, a leaking coffee machine, roadworks impacting our trade, a 600kg delivery of flour that needs unpacked and moved, understaffing, and figuring out how I can pay myself enough to live off while also investing everything we make back into the business.
Anyone who hasn’t been to the bakery doesn’t realise how tiny our space is. We make everything on one 1.5x1.5m table and juggle several tasks at the same time. To make sfogliatella efficiently, we’d have to clear the table for a number of hours, which is impossible. Maybe one day, if the enormous expense of running a bakery doesn’t kill us, we’ll move to a bigger space where we can actually make pastizzi.
Another smaller issue is sourcing of ingredients. I’ve tried to find good quality ricotta for other projects. This isn’t easy in Edinburgh. I can buy ricotta imported from Italy, but it’s not the best. Ideally we’d use locally made ricotta, but then we’d have to charge £6 a Pastizz.
*Do you deliver?*
No. Probably never will.
—
Hobz isn’t just anyone’s bakery, it’s ours, and we work too hard for people to demand we make certain items. I do have one interview with Maltese media lined up, but I will not be answering any more media inquiries. I will stop monitoring our page. We never use it - our Instagram posts are automatically copied here. We have a much larger following over on the gram. If you’re a real fan of our work and aren’t going to be a dick, follow us there. We might also delete our page eventually.
I don’t have the energy or time to continue explaining myself. I’m sure some of you will disagree with what I’ve said. Some of you may be offended. That’s ok.
Lots of love,
Matt
