Start with three pieces.
One fresh. One dried. One peppered.
Taste them in that order, without rushing to decide which is your favourite. What begins as a small cheese tasting becomes an introduction to three very different expressions of the same Maltese tradition. This is ġbejna tan nagħaġ, the sheep’s milk cheese whose modest size gives very little away about the work behind it.
For a visitor, it might first appear on a platter, tucked between bread and other local bites. Easy to enjoy, easy to photograph, easy to finish before asking a single question.
That would be a missed opportunity.
In January 2025, Ġbejna tan nagħaġ became Malta’s first food registered under the European Union’s Protected Designation of Origin scheme. The protection covers three forms: fresh, dried and peppered. The distinction matters. This is not a blanket title for every cheeselet made or sold in Malta. It belongs to a specific sheep’s milk product made according to defined requirements, with its production, processing and preparation taking place in the Maltese islands.
Behind that formal language is something much more personal.
For producer Daniel Borg, from Mġarr, the connection began with visits to his grandmother, great-grandmother and their relatives to see the sheep. A lamb given to him by his grandmother became the starting point for a flock that had grown to more than 70 sheep by the time his story was published by the European Commission’s Representation in Malta.
Another producer, Alexandra Spagnol from Ħaż Żabbar, began keeping sheep at eight years old. Her uncle bought her the first two. She went on to become a full-time farmer, growing crops to feed her flock. These are useful stories to remember when the cheese arrives at your table. What looks like a simple local speciality may also be the outcome of a childhood fascination, a family gift or years of daily work. Even the animals’ feed forms part of the protected product’s identity. The specification requires at least 55% to be grown locally, connecting the cheese to Maltese agriculture as well as to the place where it is made.
Then there is the question of what happens after the milk becomes cheese.
Fresh, dried and peppered are not merely three serving suggestions. They reflect different ways of eating and keeping a product in an island climate.
Producer Jason Vella recalls his grandparents associating cheese making with the months containing the letter “r”, from September to April. Wind and humidity affected drying. A cheese that did not dry properly could be turned into a peppered version, preserved with vinegar and kept for months.
Seen that way, a peppered ġbejna is more than a bold mouthful. It carries the logic of a household determined not to waste food, using practical knowledge to give an ingredient another future.
For travellers, that makes the tasting far more interesting.
Try the fresh cheese first, then move towards the dried and peppered versions. Pay attention to how the texture and intensity change. Ask the person serving it whether it is made with sheep’s milk, where it comes from and whether it carries the protected designation.
Those questions are not a test of authenticity. They are a way of getting beyond the generic “local platter” and into the details that make food worth travelling for.
The cheese also belongs to everyday Maltese cooking. Fresh versions appear in minestra and soppa tal armla, while dried or peppered pieces can be enjoyed in a ftira or alongside a glass of wine. It does not need an elaborate setting to make an impression.
What it deserves is attention.
A good food memory often starts with something unfamiliar. A better one starts when somebody explains why it matters. Order the three pieces. Leave room for the conversation.
