There’s something very exposing about showing someone your home, especially someone like Pierce Jones, known to his followers as @tastesfromtheroad. He’s constantly moving, constantly tasting, constantly comparing. He’s seen more food cultures than most people ever will. And here I am, taking him around an island I grew up on, suddenly seeing it through his eyes.When Pierce reached out to do a food tour of Gozo, I’ll admit I hesitated. Not because I don’t love my island, but because, for a long time, I didn’t feel particularly connected to its food. Traditional dishes were something I associated with lunches at nanna’s house – comforting, yes, but never exciting.But something has shifted this past year. The older I get, the more I find myself drawn back to the things I once overlooked and this year, I promised myself to not take my country’s culture for granted anymore.So Pierce’s idea came at the perfect time.I decided to start our tour with something so quintessentially Gozitan – Mekren Bakery, tucked away in the heart of Nadur.Five generations on, tradition remains the pride of this family-run spot. Here, generations work side by side, baking ftira, bread, and other doughy delights in a wood-fired oven that has witnessed decades of early mornings and hungry locals. The process is simple – almost stubbornly so: dough, fire, time.And yet, the result is anything but.We arrived at around 9am and were greeted by Peter Lee, who is, quite frankly, a character in the best way possible. As he showed us around, he spoke about the rhythm of the bakery – how workers like Santos are there from 4am, laying the groundwork for the day, so that he can walk in at 6 and pick things up from there. It’s a team effort built on routine, discipline, and years of quiet dedication.The bakery itself was alive – buzzing with movement, pride, and people moving like clockwork. Peter walked us through the process, from shaping the dough to working the wood-fired oven, before bringing us a quick coffee. That’s when Pierce was introduced to qassatat. Similar in filling to pastizzi, but entirely different in form – these pastries are made with a thicker, shortcrust shell, shaped into a dome rather than delicate layers. We tried two: peas and anchovies, and ricotta with raisins. Both savoury, both unexpectedly comforting, and honestly, the perfect pairing with a morning coffee. Safe to say, they give pastizzi a serious run for their money.Then came the classic Gozitan ftira – crispy on the outside, soft within, and topped with tuna, potatoes, olives, capers, anchovies, tomatoes, and onions (not too many, as Peter insisted). We also tried a cheese ftira – a softer, more pillowy variation, layered generously with ricotta and thinly sliced potatoes. Rich, hearty, and quietly indulgent.Standing there, watching everything unfold – the family, the regulars, the constant movement – I realised something. It’s not just the recipes that shape these foods. It’s the people behind them, the routine, the stories, the years of doing the same thing over and over again, with care.And maybe that’s what I had been taking for granted all along. View this post on Instagram A post shared by Lovin Malta (@lovinmalta)In Victoria, Gozo’s capital, we stepped into something far more intimate at ‘A Fine Drop’. Tucked inside a small wine shop that quietly transforms into a private dining experience, handmade ravioli takes centre stage. The owner, Laura Frendo, has been selling traditional frozen ravioli to locals for years – but watching her in action is something else entirely. She walked us through the process: rolling the dough, preparing the filling, and folding each piece with effortless precision, all within seconds.Pierce and I, of course, had to try it ourselves. We managed… but let’s just say our technique didn’t quite match hers.Laura explained how the space began simply as a wine shop, where she sold her homemade ravioli and imqaret – crisp pastries filled with spiced date paste. Over time, it evolved into something more special: intimate dining nights held on select days, with only 24 seats available. Unsurprisingly, getting a spot has become highly competitive.We began with the ravioli. Some were served the traditional way, coated in a rich tomato sauce, while others came dressed in a sage-infused butter that – honestly – puts any version I’ve had before to shame. I tried both, finished with a generous grating of cheese that elevated the dish even further.We also tasted the fried variation – golden and crisp on the outside, soft and creamy within. No sauce, no extras. Just the ravioli as it is. While undeniably delicious, I still found myself drawn to the classic version.Then came the imqaret – Pierce’s favourite bite of the entire trip. Golden, crisp parcels filled with warm, sticky date paste, a dessert with roots tracing back to Arab influence on the islands. Paired with Laura’s homemade vanilla ice cream and a cup of freshly brewed Maltese coffee – slightly bitter, subtly spiced with roasted chicory – it was one of those combinations that just works.It’s in moments like this that Gozo’s culinary identity feels clearest. It’s not about rigid tradition or authenticity for the sake of it – it’s about evolution. Italian techniques, Arab influences, and local ingredients all coming together, naturally, to create something that feels distinctly Maltese. View this post on Instagram A post shared by Lovin Malta (@lovinmalta)A quick trip from Victoria to the outskirts of Marsalforn took us to the family run Ta’ Mena Estate, which aims to put local produce to the fore. Here we tasted what the land produces: olive oil, sun-dried tomato paste and local wines.Ta’ Mena Estate is owned by the Spiteri family. Here we met up with Marnese Spiteri who explained how everything is seasonal, dependent and fragile.The olive oil – fresh, unfiltered – is sharp and alive. The tomato paste, concentrated under the summer sun, is almost jam-like in its sweetness.But beyond the flavours, there’s a story of change. She explained how farming is becoming harder and seasons are shifting. And yet, the commitment to doing things the right way – slowly and locally – remains.Back near the water, we ended the day right where we started, in Mġarr, at a restaurant that perfectly captures Gozo’s evolving identity.Here, local ingredients meet global techniques in a way that feels thoughtful rather than forced. Ġbejna is reimagined, seafood is handled with precision and restraint, and there are subtle hints of Asian, French, and Italian influences throughout the menu. Still, the foundation remains unmistakably Gozitan.Head Chef Paul Buttigieg shared how his parents first opened the doors of it-Tmun in 1987 in Xlendi. Over the years, he worked his way up to Head Chef and now runs the restaurant himself, building on what his mother taught him while shaping it into something that reflects his own style.One of the first dishes he prepared for us was a filo pastry tart filled with whipped fresh Gozitan ġbejniet, an ingredient that, dare I say, was one of the most consistent highlights throughout the entire food tour. Layered on top of the soft, pillowy cheese was an array of tomatoes in different forms. Some were pickled, others dried, some desiccated into a crumble, and others turned into a paste. Once again, the dish highlighted just how essential good, locally sourced olive oil and fresh herbs are in bringing everything together.Paul pointed out how timeless the combination of cheese and tomatoes is, not just in Gozo or Malta, but across many cuisines, often seen in pairings like burrata and tomatoes. Still, I would argue that the whipped ġbejna and tomato combination feels far more balanced. The saltiness of the cheese cuts through the tanginess of the tomatoes in a way that feels both simple and refined.He also explained how ġbejniet are at their best in winter, when sheep graze more on fresh grass, unlike the dry summer months in Malta. It is a small detail, but one that says a lot about how closely food here is tied to the land and the seasons.We then moved on to it-Tmun’s signature fish soup, which I can only describe as what would happen if Maltese aljotta and French bouillabaisse came together in one dish. While traditional aljotta does not typically include seafood in the same way, Paul’s version does, resulting in something richer and more layered. As Pierce put it, it tastes like the Mediterranean in one bite.Our final stop was a mere three-minute walk away from it-Tmun. Past the fishing boats that line Mġarr Harbour, and a small team of ducks paddling between them, sits the iconic Gleneagles Bar.Originally built in 1732 by Grand Master António Manoel de Vilhena, the structure began as a simple wooden shelter. It served as a waiting point for passengers travelling between Malta and Gozo, long before the harbour became what it is today. Over time, it evolved into Gleneagles Bar in 1885, named after one of the first Gozo ferry line ships. Even war could not erase it. After being heavily bombed, it was rebuilt in stone, standing today as a symbol of resilience.Stepping inside feels like entering a living archive. The walls are filled, almost chaotically, with character. Nautical relics, mounted fish, old photographs, and snapshots of visitors from all walks of life, including familiar faces like Denzel Washington and Woody Harrelson.Behind it all are the Grech brothers. Here, we met Tony Grech, one half of the duo and a man who has dedicated 60 years of his life to this bar.He spoke about how much Gozo has changed over the years, sometimes for the better, sometimes not. There was a quiet honesty in the way he said it. He recalled how fishermen once filled the harbour, something that has now become far less common, replaced in part by a steady flow of tourists.And yet, for Tony, this is still exactly where he wants to be. When asked if he would ever retire, his answer was simple. What would he do at home, sit and watch television?At one point, he joked that he never got married because he “married the bar” instead. And somehow, that tells you everything you need to know.As the evening settled in, we sat overlooking the water, drinks in hand, watching the boats move gently in and out of the harbour. It felt like the perfect way to end the day.Reflecting on the full yet fun day we had, three things stood out across the food we tasted and the people we met. Everything was family-run, built on simplicity, and somehow, despite everything, still standing strong against the test of time.Which brings me to where I first started off – I guess experiencing my country’s food and culture from the outside looking in made me appreciate it that much more, and while our dishes are built on the most simple of ingredients, the history and stories that shape them are what make them special. Let us know where we should try out next•