The shutters of Valletta’s Prego café may roll open again as the third generation of the Bezzina family, which has run it since the 1940s, considers stepping in after its closure sparked nostalgia among patrons.

Overwhelmed by the public’s reaction to the recent news of the end of an era for the South Street café, and fears of its replacement by yet another trendy, soulless eatery, 80-year-old Salvatore Bezzina, also known as Sonny, has reassured that Prego will remain within the family as always.

Another option would be keeping it closed and allowing the dust to collect on the original panelled bar, discoloured red chairs and empty bottles that line the walls and have not changed since the 1960s, and let it morph into more of a ‘museum’.

While everything has a price and the entry of a third party could also be a possibility, Sonny insists Prego would be kept in the Bezzina family, proud to be the original owners, despite plenty of sacrifices.

Sonny retired after working at the café since he was 16. He ran it with two of his brothers, Philip, 90, and George, 63, but they started to run out of steam and grew tired with time, deciding to call it a day when COVID-19 hit in March.

Since then, the already dark Prego has not seen the light of day. In fact, Sonny is reluctant to open it for a chat inside – the pride he had when running it is evident as he busies himself with tidying the empty café, where time stood still, before settling down.

Sonny jealously guards the property that was first opened by his father, also Salvatore, in the early 1940s, and was passed down the line to the three boys when he died in 1996.

The café changed its name to Prego in 1957 and ranked among the “top three” in Valletta during the 1970s. With time, however, the competition grew, while the café reduced its operating hours, dying a natural death. Then, COVID-19 hammered the last nail.

But a resurrection may be on the cards as Patrick Bezzina, Sonny’s son, says his eight siblings and cousins are considering taking it over, despite the catering industry being alien to them.

Patrick, 47, a chief officer at a technology company, says he would not run the place himself... it would have to be a side line for him.

But recognising its uniqueness and potential, the idea would be to reopen as is, with some improvements.

It is like entering a time capsule and going back half a century

“It is like entering a time capsule and going back half a century,” he admits.

Nothing has changed over the decades – not even the two employees, who were part of the furniture and fittings.

Implementing the required health protocols when the coronavirus mitigating measures were lifted was not worth their while.

The café was no goldmine, selling a limited range of food, including basic pastizzi, qassatat, simple toasties and the legendary egg mayo sandwiches, but it never ventured into a more extensive menu.

Sonny’s father wanted him to learn how to cook and bake, but he refused because his hours were already too long… and so, the kitchen never opened.

Nonetheless, no corners were cut, and Sonny says the secret was no scrimping on every ingredient slapped into daily fresh bread.

Prego may have kept a low profile, but it had a following, with regulars slipping into their dark corner for a daily mid-morning pick-me-up, and others never missing out on a pit stop during a visit to the city – generation after generation. Others still only realised how much they appreciated the slice of authentic, old-school Malta when it was no longer.

The brothers had worked at Prego their entire lives, under their father’s dominant and watchful eye. So, closing a 65-year chapter did not evoke as much nostalgia in Sonny.

While he acknowledges the café would welcome repeat customers, who would return on every holiday, or send friends over, he was happy to retire, having worked hard and never really making any money.

“All we have is the roof over our heads. It was a good business, but just about enough to live off and make ends meet. We never lived a life of luxury,” he says.

“We were not businessmen. My father was. Back then, hotels would ask him to work for them, but he always wanted to keep the bar, keep us with him and pass it onto us.”

In fact, the brothers did not have much choice and moved in their dad’s shadow, constrained to work at the café, despite lacking his business acumen and contacts.

As Sonny reminisces about those “different times” and the “different characters”, the family dynamics unfold, without any reservations.

“We are family men, while our dad was a ladies’ man, always surrounded with lovely women,” he recalls, painting a vivid picture of the thriving scenario back in the 1960s.

A gentleman in business, he took care of things almost until his death.

“When we took over, we pulled one rope and followed his advice to always look after our customers,” he says.

Now, it may be time to pass that on to the next generation… and see what they can bring to the (formica) table.