80-Year-Old Keeps Maltese Cheesemaking Alive in Queensland

Every morning at dawn, 80-year-old Philippa Abela walks to her milking shed in Habana, North Queensland, where Meg the cow eagerly awaits her arrival. What happens next is a tradition passed down from her mother over 70 years ago.

Mrs. Abela's family escaped post-war Malta in 1950, settling on a cane farm near Mackay. Her mother brought the family's cheesemaking traditions with her, teaching young Philippa to craft soft ricotta-like cheese for pastizzis and firm pepper cheese using cow's milk instead of the traditional sheep's milk from home.

Today, Mrs. Abela has perfected about 13 types of cheese, waking before sunrise to milk her two cows and transform the fresh milk into traditional Maltese delicacies. By 6:30am, she's stirring rennet into warm milk, carefully watching temperatures as curds separate from whey.

"If there's a street party and you go without, it's 'where's the pastizzis?'" she laughs, explaining how her cheese has become essential to Habana's tight-knit Maltese community. She once made 90 kilos of pepper cheese in a single year for friends who've relied on her for decades.

The craft requires patience and precision. Each cheese follows its own process, with different cultures, heating times, and aging methods. "You never stop learning," Mrs. Abela says, emphasizing that the best cheese starts with well-fed, relaxed cows and meticulously clean equipment.

The Ripple Effect

Mrs. Abela's traditional methods are inspiring a surprising trend. Michael Zannella from Cheeselinks, a cheesemaking supplier, reports retail sales to hobbyists and small farmers have grown over 200 percent in recent years.

He credits a generational shift among younger customers embracing artisan craftsmanship over convenience culture. "The craftsmanship and the story behind what you're consuming is more important now than ever," Zannella explains, contrasting today's values with his parents' microwave generation.

Mrs. Abela agrees the old ways are gaining popularity. She now teaches occasional classes to eager students wanting to learn her slow, natural approach to cheesemaking.

Since her husband died two years ago, the octogenarian has become busier than ever, managing beef cattle, mowing, and weeding while maintaining her daily cheesemaking ritual. Though she stopped commercial dairying 30 years ago and doesn't sell cheese commercially, demand from friends and family never stops.

Her philosophy is simple: "I think you've got to contribute to society, you can't stay idle." Through her hands, Malta's centuries-old traditions live on in Queensland's sugarcane fields, one pastizzi at a time.