Celebrated most evocatively in Rabat, it is a reminder that, on these islands, tradition is not only observed, but also lived, tasted and carried forward, one generation at a time.

Before Malta erupts into its summer procession season, the feast of St Joseph arrives quietly, in the gentle twilight between winter and spring.

Feasts in Malta are among the most traditional and colourful celebrations on the islands. They dominate village and town life in summer, with bright decorations, statues carried shoulder-high in processions, and dazzling fireworks transforming even the smallest localities into vibrant stages. Yet the feast of St Joseph stands apart. Although some towns and villages do celebrate St Joseph in summer, in Rabat it is still celebrated in March on its proper liturgical day, allowing for deeper reflection and devotion. During this period, the celebration feels more intimate, rooted in memory and tradition.

Every year on 19th March, Malta celebrates the feast of St Joseph, a public holiday and one of the most important dates in the national calendar. Falling during Lent, the feast, in honour of the patron of workers, fathers and the universal Church, balances reflection with celebration, marking the end of winter and the approach of spring, well before the start of the summer village feasts. In Rabat, the celebrations revolve around the Church of St Mary of Jesus, known locally as Ta’ Ġieżu. The feast is organised by the Archconfraternity of St Joseph of Rabat-Mdina, in collaboration with the Franciscan friars from the same church, L’Isle Adam Band Club A.D. 1860 and the 19th March Fireworks Factory. The church, dedicated to the Visitation of Mary to her relative Elizabeth, features a luminous altarpiece painted by Giuseppe Hyzler, locally celebrated for his distinctive Nazarene style.

On the day of the feast, the church is lovingly adorned in rich cherry-red damask, which is replaced by deep black once the celebration concludes, in preparation for Holy Week. A Solemn High Mass is officiated by the Mdina Metropolitan Chapter, accompanied by sacred music composed by the late esteemed Maestro Carlo Diacono. As evening falls, a finely wrought papier-mâché statue of St Joseph, brought from Marseilles and crafted to a design by Luigi Fontana, is carried high on shoulders in procession, accompanied by music, applause and the soft glow of lights strung across balconies and façades. The steady beat of brass bands leads people, myself included, through the winding streets, while glittering fireworks fill the night sky. Walking through Rabat during the day, I always sense how deeply the feast is woven into community life. Doors are left ajar, neighbours greet one another, and visitors are welcomed without hesitation. The atmosphere is festive but grounded, joyful yet reflective. It is a reminder that Maltese identity is shaped not only by grand events but also by shared rituals repeated year after year.

St Joseph, or San Ġużepp in Maltese, is deeply woven into the physical and emotional landscape of the islands. His presence is felt not only in churches, but also in street names, squares and the quiet corners of villages and towns. Triq San Ġużepp in Marsaxlokk, the fishing village where I spent many childhood summers, is one such place. To me, that street is synonymous with memories of salt in the air, characteristic fishing boats rocking gently in the harbour, and the unhurried rhythm of authentic village life shaped by the sea and the seasons. My favourite image of St Joseph in the Maltese archipelago is the striking painting by the Italian artist Virginio Monti in the Basilica of the Nativity of Our Lady in Xagħra, Gozo. The work honours the saint not only in devotion but also in artistic representation, depicting him as a figure of quiet strength and humility. These qualities resonate deeply within Maltese culture and reflect the enduring reverence for San Ġużepp across the islands.

Tasting tradition: No Maltese feast is complete without food, and the feast of St Joseph is no exception. Whenever I attend the Rabat feast on 19th March, the first thing I look out for is not the procession or the feast decorations but the unmistakable aroma of the żeppoli ta’ San Ġużepp. These are delicious confections made from a rice batter with candied fruit and raisins, deep-fried and drizzled with honey and icing sugar. Another traditional treat is the sfinġa, a golden fried choux pastry made especially for the feast. It can be enjoyed sweet, filled generously with ricotta and drizzled with honey, or savoury, often filled with anchovies. The savoury version is prepared throughout Lent until Good Friday. Alongside the żeppoli and sfineġ, other traditional treats appear, from honey rings and carob sweets to qubbajt, a nougat made with almonds and honey; imqaret, date-filled pastries; kwareżimal, a spiced almond-based biscuit traditionally baked during the Lenten period; and figolli, elaborately decorated almond-filled pastries associated with Easter, offering a glimpse into Malta’s rich culinary heritage. As I bite into a sfinġa, warm and indulgent, I am reminded how taste has the power to unlock memory. Around me, bands play, children weave through the crowds, and the statue of St Joseph moves slowly forward, carried with devotion and care. During that moment, past and present seem to converge.

Continuity and belonging: The feast of San Ġużepp is an occasion where faith, language, memory and community come together. It speaks of traditions celebrated quietly. Long before the summer marathon of feasts begins, 19th March offers a pause, a moment when the islands collectively honour continuity and belonging. As I leave Rabat, the sounds, smells and sight of fireworks fading behind me, the sweetness of honey still lingering on my palate, I am struck by how much this single day contains. It holds my own memories and national identity, private reflection and shared celebration. In the gentle light at the very end of winter, St Joseph’s feast serves as a recollection that, in Malta, tradition is lived, tasted, and carried forward, one generation at a time.

What’s in a name? For many Maltese, the name Joseph or Ġużeppi embodies faith, tradition and the strength of family bonds. In my own family, that history links directly to my father, who was baptised Giuseppe, a name that remained common even after Italian ceased to be Malta’s official language.English and Maltese became Malta’s official languages in 1934, and under British rule, Italian was gradually phased out of official use by 1936. Over time, Italian names such as Giuseppe increasingly turned into Joseph, reflecting changes in the way the islands were administered. But these changes did not erase what came before. In Malta, language, beliefs and identity have always overlapped, adding layers of meaning rather than replacing them. My father’s identity card still bears the name Giuseppe.