What our chef eats on his day off: a sneak peek

The quickest way to understand a chef is to see what he reaches for when there is no ticket rail and no guest waiting at the pass. Away from the kitchen at Tre Angeli, our chef likes his choices to be uncomplicated: warm bread, strong coffee, something from the market and enough time to enjoy all three. His day off is less an escape from food than a change in the rhythm around it.

Breakfast comes first, usually close to home and without a clipboard in sight. What our chef eats on his day off starts with a small espresso, warm bread and a simple Maltese breakfast of eggs, ricotta, tomatoes and olives. There may be a pastry from a nearby bakery, but he is in no hurry to turn breakfast into a performance.

Lunch is where the day feels most relaxed. A tuna sandwich, a bowl of soup or a plate of pasta can all fit into an ordinary schedule. He treats himself to the food he genuinely enjoys cooking at home, without the need to impress anyone or test a new technique.

This is a glimpse behind the professional routine rather than a polished food feature. On his own time, our chef stays curious but grounded, finding pleasure in familiar flavours and the occasional unplanned bite. His choices reveal why good meals begin with good ingredients and a bit of attention.

A slow start to the day

His first coffee is small, strong and taken while the street is still quiet. He likes it with a splash of milk, although the exact ratio depends on the morning and whether breakfast has arrived yet. The coffee is a starting point, not the main event.

Breakfast arrives as warm bread with olive oil, followed by softly cooked eggs and crumbly ricotta. Tomatoes are seasoned simply, and a few olives provide salt and richness. Australian readers may recognise the instinct behind it, even if the combination sounds a little different from a typical eggs-on-toast brunch.

The supermarket comparison is fair, too. Woolworths and Coles commonly stock sourdough, Australian-grown tomatoes and fresh dairy, while many neighbourhood bakeries supply good coffee and bread for the weekend. Our chef appreciates the convenience of that local rhythm, especially on a morning when he wants breakfast without a plan.

He eats slowly enough to notice the contrast between crisp bread and soft ricotta. Nothing needs to be stacked neatly or photographed before the first bite. The absence of a kitchen schedule changes the pace of the meal, and that is often his favourite part.

Lunch at a human pace

By late morning, the favourite lunch is usually a tuna sandwich. Tinned tuna packed in olive oil is combined with tomatoes, capers and leaves, then tucked into a soft roll. The flavours are sharper and more Mediterranean than a standard sandwich, but the idea is familiar to anyone who has eaten lunch at a kitchen counter.

Fresh ingredients depend on what the market offers that day. A visit to the fish counter or produce stalls near the harbour can change his plans. Nothing is reserved in advance; the best-looking tomatoes, a piece of fish or a few perfectly ripe fruits usually make the decision for him.

Many Sydney diners know the early-morning appeal of a fish market, while Melbourne is familiar for its laneway markets and independent food shops. The purpose of the trip matters less than the choice itself: our chef is shopping for lunch, not assembling a complicated menu.

Weekend barbecue culture gives this Maltese lunch an Australian point of comparison. The familiar ritual of cooking sausages and grilled vegetables outdoors has little in common with a tuna roll eaten beside a kitchen window, yet both celebrate straightforward food and generous flavours. His preference remains the quieter version, with the washing-up done before anyone else gets home.

The waterfront reset

After lunch, a walk takes him towards the water. Sliema opens onto views across the harbour towards St Julian’s, and the route past Fort Manoel offers a welcome change of scene. He may stop for coffee again, although this second cup is usually more about sitting outside than checking his phone.

Aussie city routines have their own version of this reset. A Sydney habit of strolling beside the harbour or crossing to an inner-city café can feel quite similar to a Sliema walk with an espresso in hand. Both are ways of making a pause feel like part of the day rather than lost time.

He rarely treats the walk as a fixed itinerary. A bench near the sea, a few streets through town or a look at the boats can be enough. Fresh air resets his appetite, and the next meal begins to take shape without any discussion or planning.

That unhurried rhythm is the real luxury in his off-duty food habits. A chef can spend hours chasing heat, balance and consistency during service. On his day off, he is content to let lunch be lunch, a coffee be a coffee and the walk simply be a walk.

Comfort food with a Maltese accent

Even after the waterfront pause, our chef is usually thinking about dinner. His favourite comfort dish is Maltese rabbit stew, slow-cooked until the meat is tender and the sauce is rich with savoury seasoning. A plate of vegetables and plenty of good bread make it a complete answer to the question of what he wants to eat.

The dish carries the flavour of the island without demanding the intensity of a formal tasting menu. Maltese cooking can be bold, particularly when it comes to seasoning and olive oil, yet this is food designed for sharing and repetition. It tastes even better the next day, making it ideal for a cook who does not want to spend his afternoon at the stove.

For Australian diners, the contrast with a weekend barbecue is revealing. Barbecued meat, fresh bread and a simple salad are familiar sources of comfort, while the Maltese preference leans towards slow-cooked stews and strongly seasoned vegetables. Both traditions reward good ingredients and unhurried eating.

The same relaxed approach applies to a drink. Our chef enjoys a glass of red wine with his meal, when he has one, rather than rushing it before a set time. Australian takeaway alcohol rules are not the same in every state or territory, and licensed collection windows depend on local permits. In Malta, his preference is simpler: lunch first, then a slow drink with no clock watching.

From kitchen calm to karaoke energy

Music gives the evening another turn. Our chef has a soft spot for 1970s and 1980s classics, including Fleetwood Mac and a few Australian favourites from AC/DC to Men at Work. He enjoys an Italian ballad when one comes along, but there is no need to explain the choice or prove that he knows every word.

At Tre Angeli, the kitchen and the karaoke bar belong to the same world. A working day centred on timing gives way to an evening where a missed note causes no trouble and a confident performance earns enthusiastic applause. The change of atmosphere appeals to people who enjoy good food with company rather than dining alone over a screen.

Weekly happy-hour drink specials make it easy to settle in before singing. Our chef likes a sparkling drink, a little ice and enough room in the glass for a long conversation. The emphasis is on drinking well and staying present, not on drinking as quickly as possible.

Sharing plates suit this kind of evening. Tapas-style bites, seafood and familiar main courses give everyone something to reach for between songs. The meal can stretch without becoming a formal occasion, and the performance list can shift from nostalgic favourites to current pop according to the mood of the room.

Make your own easy evening at Tre Angeli

The spirit of our chef’s day off is simple: choose food you enjoy, leave enough time to savour it and add something spontaneous. That is the atmosphere waiting at Tre Angeli in Sliema, where dinner, drinks and live karaoke can all be part of one relaxed plan.

For special evenings, themed nights and the latest live entertainment, keep the Tre Angeli events page handy. It is the place to check what is coming up, find the right night for your group and arrive ready for dinner before the microphone comes out.

There is no need for a special occasion, polished singing voice or an elaborate plan. Come for the restaurant menu, meet friends for the weekly happy hour and stay for a song or two. Tre Angeli is ready with a table, a drink and a microphone whenever you feel like stepping out.