Last year over Easter, I tried to make my first bollo hornazo. It was difficult on two fronts.

Firstly, I’ve become one of those dreaded London liberal elites that are blamed so much for everything and who drink things like coconut milk and cut out gluten. What a tragedy for my Llanito palate, making everything from torta acelga to un cupotea con biscuits a little bit harder. And a bollo hornazo especially hard. It came out of the oven looking more beach sand than a loaf.And then there’s the recipe.

Gibraltarians guard their food secrets and will often run around the kitchen guided by what may well be the Holy Spirit itself. Whether it’s my mum or my grandparents, I used to sit in the kitchen with my notebook to spy on them, and all I heard was ‘bueno… un poco de…’, with ‘un poco’ meaning anything from a pinch to half a kilo. It’s taken practise and patience to work things out for myself. I can just about make a calentita, although I think sunshine may be the last ingredient. London calentita is always a little sadder.Thank God then for the Mamas.

To those of us in exile, Mama Lottie’s and Mama Sonia’s cookbooks have provided us with references and praise the Holy Spirit of the kitchen, measurements. I have Mama Sonia’s cookbooks and one of them is signed ‘To my friend Jonathan’. It’s one of my most treasured possessions.

When I’m feeling especially homesick, I’ll watch Mama Sonia on Facebook for an hour, not only cooking up some incredible food in her kitchen which looks so much like my grandparents’ kitchens, but also being unapologetically Llanita. I’ve often pulled up one of her videos to people who have asked me about Gibraltar, because to me it summarises all our rich cultural history, our food and our language and our sense of humour, that people tend to overlook in favour of red phone boxes and fish & chips in the sun.

So, what great news to hear that Masterchef contestant Nico Fitzgerald is opening a restaurant called Llanito in St. Alban’s, bringing Gibraltarian food to the world, and tying it into the Mediterranean food culture that is so highly prized. The last time I went to a Southern Iberian/North African inspired restaurant was for a work event a few years ago, and just the offensive name (Moro, and its companion restaurant Morito) let me know this had been opened by a person who didn’t understand the culture, as much as they may protest they wanted to be as authentic as possible.

I often go to food markets like Borough, or a relatively new one in Wapping that seems to be getting bigger each week. The appetite to try new things is there, and it’s the Mediterranean stalls that have the biggest draws, be it the Greek olive stand, the Spanish olive oil, or the excellent Italian food truck that sells everything from cannoli to enormous arancini. It’s another place to go when I miss home.

Even though I’ve only been to Italy twice, I’ve always felt that kinship from a cultural perspective, and nowhere more than with food. An Italian and a Gibraltarian know the importance and the magic of food beyond easing hunger.

It can heal, it can seduce, it can celebrate. To see people in London eating while standing or walking up, not taking the time to sit and enjoy the social aspect of a meal, is something akin to blasphemy. I have been living in the UK for over a decade, and it still looks jarring to see people anxiously running around while eating a sad little sandwich. As my grandmother would say, ‘a ese le hace falta un buen plato de lenteja.’ It makes me happy to see the annual Calentita food festival in Gibraltar has become such a phenomenon. I haven’t had a chance to visit it, but I enjoy seeing all the posts about different stalls, bringing tradition and innovation together to showcase the best of what Gibraltar has to offer in terms of food. Calling it Jubilita this year is an especially nice touch, honouring the linguistic alongside the gastronomic. We have a lot to be proud of, and it makes me happy to see us at our best when we embrace that.

And I guess in Gibraltar it’s tough to consider a Llanito restaurant, because we cook so much of that food at home.

But what an excellent cultural export, in this attention-deficit world of culinary fusion, to put a stamp on our food which is such a blend of so many cultures that call Gibraltar home. I hope one day a Llanito restaurant does find its way somewhere like Casemates, so visitors can enjoy some of the food that makes us so very much us. I’ll have to ask Nico Fitzgerald for a gluten-free dairy-free bollo hornazo recipe, hopefully with measurements.

‘I guess in Gibraltar it’s tough to consider a Llanito restaurant, because we cook so much of that food at home. But what an excellent cultural export, in this attention-deficit world of culinary fusion, to put a stamp on our food which is such a blend of so many cultures that call Gibraltar home.’