There are three words that make a Maltese person’s mouth water no matter which bit of the world he or she is in or how many layers removed he or she is from somebody who was once ‘Maltese’:

1.     Pastizzi

2.     Fenek

3.     Ftira

My review of Roger’s Bakery in Zejtun broke records: 400 facebook shares and much drooling later, it took more than 500 shares on Why I’m Voting A Big Fat Yes to topple it off the throne. Divorce and pastizzi: that’s us.

So I was wondering last week: would people like to know where they can get the absolutely lushest ftira on this island? Not just an empty one which you then make up at home, but a filled ftira, packed with ‘traditional’ ingredients that redefine ‘traditional’. A ftira that has you sitting outside the take-away in your car scoffing and wiping the oil from your chin. That ftira.

Over the past years, so many huge producers (‘huge’ by Maltese standards, of course) have bastardised our ftira. Just because something is made with flour and water and comes in a ring shape, that does not make it a ftira. It is not even the same texture as our hobza. A ftira has a semi-soft outside and a soft inside with huge holes in the dough. It is made with hard wheat flour which has 13% protein rather than soft wheat which may have 4% at most. It is baked in a wood-burning oven not an electric one. The holes carry the liquid stuff that seeps out of what you put in it, along with bits of filling like tuna and olives.

In my view, the absolute best filled one on the island is at Buchman’s in Gzira’s Rue d’Argens. Gzira used to be our red light district but a couple of massive building projects (yeah…what happened to those?) have put paid to the ladies showing their ample boobs in the windows. Thankfully it has this.

Buchman’s ftajjar are so simple they are almost beyond description. The ftira biz-zejt (‘with oil’ but really with a lot more besides) has tuna from cans, is smeared with kunserva, packed with bits of chopped green olive, a few capers, some sliced onion and doused with bog-standard vegetable oil. No faffy EVOO here.

Yet you bite into it and you want to cry with happiness. It is our sea, our beaches, our summer colour in one. Buchman’s ftira biz-zejt is Malta personified. Or breaded. Whatever. And you know that after you’ve indulged you can go back to the office and stink everywhere and everybody with your first ‘hello’.

My other favourite ftira at Buchman’s is the ‘breakfast’ one which you can eat at all hours: smeared in real butter which melts into the holes the moment the hot omelette hits the dough, it is topped with crisp bacon and a lovely hit of dark, spicy sauce. It is simply sublime.

Every day, long lines form outside Buchman’s and they are not just made of manual workers who really know how to get a good te fit-tazza. Over the past years I have noticed that most of the line is composed of gaming company staff who have set up in the area. Without even knowing, Buchman’s is exporting Maltese culture.

The best bit is the price: a nofs ftira (half) biz-zejt costs the grand old sum of €1.50. The one with egg and bacon €2. And if you really want to splash out you go for the one with meat which will strip your wallet of €3.

The joy of simple, in a ftira. Whenever I really feel that this country has gone to the dogs, that our food culture has vanished down the drain, all I need to do is pop over to Buchman’s: it is food to put a huge grin on your face.