They say you can still hear
The laughter and patter of small feet.
Sometimes you can still see
The face of a young boy, covered in chocolate.
You will still smell the warm pastry baking,
The almonds roasting,
And hear the chocolate melting over bain-marie.
The year was 1946 in the month of November.
The house was buzzing with excitement.
Maria, aged twenty four was resting in bed;
The new born child, third in the family,
Wore her out and now that he was resting,
She could sleep as well.
Her mother was busy in the kitchen,
Guests would arrive tomorrow to see the child.
What will she feed them?
“Nanna, is the pie ready?”
“Soon” she wipes chocolate off his little face.
In the town she was known,
For making the best Torta tal-Marmurat,
So what better way to celebrate
Than with one of her finest pies?
Years later, we’ll celebrate yet again -
Remembering those we left behind,
So share with us this Tradition,
To the History of our people!
by Gabrielle Muscat