A passionate promoter of Malta, its produce and its heritage has proposed that the government legislate for the revival of dry, arable land and create sustainable “agro-eco hamlets” to preserve traditional trades and farming techniques.

“Then – and only then – can we really talk about agro-tourism,” according to Donald Caligari Conti, a food and wine connoisseur but most of all a lover of things Maltese.

He is pushing for a revision of outdated legislation on Malta’s cottage industry.

The problem, he believes, is the general lack of national pride in Maltese food and an obsession with foreign cuisine, stemming from a culinary inferiority complex.

“If we do not take pride in our local produce and culinary traditions, it is useless talking about agro-tourism and eco-friendly projects. If we consider these in a cosmetic manner, it is a dead-end and we may as well not invest.”

Mr Caligari Conti points to the lack of a single sustainable hamlet that grows local produce for tourists to visit, highlighting that Malta’s 7,000-year history of organised farming is not promoted.

“Hardly anyone is aware that in 240 square kilometres we have microclimates: marrows grow first in Żabbar because it has more sun hours; and the quality – and name – of figs changes according to location.

“We need to move from being cowboys to organising things in a sustainable way, with the blessing of health, tourism and environment authorities, as well as the farmers,” he maintains.

Such is his love for anything Maltese, particularly its cuisine, that Mr Caligari Conti has started a slow-food, private-dining concept in Vittoriosa, where he specialises in local dishes. He uses only fresh produce and pours in that sorely lacking pride.

The slow-food movement is a discipline that is not yet really understood, he maintains. “It departs from what the land provides,” he explains, disappointed that this is underestimated.

Tal-Petut, once a grocery store, still exudes that look and feel, complete with a counter, a remnant of the Valletta market, piled with baskets of sun-dried tomatoes – prepared on ceramic and lime roofs as tradition would have it – and jars of wholesome preserves that ooze the aromas of Maltese countryside.

The idea behind Tal-Petut is not commercial, Mr Caligari Conti insists, accepting only a couple of bookings a week and cooking himself for no more that 25 patrons at a time, avoiding catering for passing trade.

“Otherwise, it becomes run of the mill,” he says, showing off a microwave-free kitchen, or kċina tat-tektik as he calls it, and highlighting the sign above the door – the only one in Maltese, saying: Prodott Lokali Frisk (fresh local produce).

Busy preserving summer produce for winter, Mr Caligari Conti insists no chicken cubes go into his cooking, while homemade carob julep, clementine syrups and marmalades are drizzled on various typical dishes.

Maltese cuisine has so much to offer but people are biased, he says. “Instead, we go for rib eye steaks, Angus and Kobe beef when we could be having calf and collar of pork (xikel tal-majjal). We had our own sour dough (tat-tinsila), yet we ask for baguettes and ciabatta.

“At traditional feasts, we find anything but typical food,” he says, listing burgers and kebabs on the menu.

“Where can you find real ħobż biż-żejt, with tomatoes – no tuna, sweet corn, coleslaw and kunserva?”

Mr Caligari Conti’s role model was his grandmother. He used to go shopping with her and watch her cook. Today’s models are so-called celebrity chefs – and none of them are local, he says in dismay.

He is driven by the idea that life is too short, with no time to waste... Yet it took him eight years to rehabilitate the Vittoriosa house and he could use a good four hours to prepare the xikel tal-majjal.

Don’t expect to be served a mozzarella salad. At Tal-Petut, you have to be loyal to the ġbejna.