If you read the back page you will find out more about the caviare project in Malta. I must say I learnt a great deal about caviare during that press conference and after and not in my wildest dreams would I have thought I would eat so much caviare on any Saturday morning in my life.

The organisation behind the project, Caviar Creator, have cleverly realised that come May, they will be eligible to receive an 80 per cent subsidy towards their project to set up a plant in Malta. However, until they sort premises out with MEPA they will be distributing caviar through Vincent Attard, whom they have appointed as the person responsible for the Malta division.

After a lively press conference the media was invited to try out the caviare which arrived on crushed ice, looking extremely tempting. I’d only ever had caviare once in my life, a few grains on melba toast – and that was a long time ago. This was the real variety and I thanked my lucky stars I had had the good sense to come. Our hosts encouraged us to help ourself with the little mother-of-pearl spoons provided. The way to eat it is to place a teaspoonful on the hand to return it to room temperature and then lick if off elegantly, as Caviar Creator executives were doing.

I liked the taste of it and was encouraged by Mrs Keil, the wife of the chairman of the Board of Directors to help myself shamelessly. She told me, in between spoonfuls of delicious caviare that she had come to Malta with her new husband on their honeymoon some 27 years ago. Well, two ounces of caviare served as hors d’oeuvre is considered almost too much. I must say I had much, much more than that and enjoyed every mother-of-pearl spoonful.

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The eating of caviare (I prefer it written with an e) has been regarded as a status symbol since Hamlet said: ‘The play, I remember, pleased not the millions; ‘twas caviare to the general’.

According to Larousse Gastronomique in Rabelais’ Pantagruel (1533) caviare is described as the choice hors d’oeuvre. Jean-Bapiste Colbert (1619-1683) the French politician and chief minister to Louis XIV organized the production of caviare in the Gironde using the sturgeons passing through the estuary. It was apparently introduced to France in the 1920s following the exile of Russian princes. Charles Ritz formally launched caviare by putting it permanently on the menu at his hotel.

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Reassuring trays of canapés on which everything displayed looked tempting kept on appearing. Some of the canapés were flown in while others were made by the kitchen brigade at the Hilton.

I learnt that Russia was for a long time the sole producer of caviare but no more. Until the middle of the nineteenth century the rivers running into the Atlantic and Baltic were fairly rich in sturgeon, as were the Rhine and the North American lakes, but industry, steam navigation, dredging and poisonous factory discharges have caused their disappearance in these areas.

The fish seek fresh water at spawning time, where they deposit their spawn on the bottom of the river for it to mature. Here the young fish find excellent conditions for growth after leaving the egg.

It is during the breeding season, when they leave the deep sea waters and turn to the shallower river beds, that they are caught – but not killed.

As the Caspian and Black Seas experience very severe winters, ice-bound conditions make it impossible for the sturgeon to obtain sufficient food. Nature being what it is, however, they are capable of storing nourishment in their roes in times of plenty for the leaner months.

When the sturgeon are caught at spawning time they are therefore placed in submerged floating cages the size of large barges and, unable to search for food, use up their reserve. In due course they are killed, but only experienced hands can determine when the roes will be right of eating.

I read somewhere that before the Russian revolution the swashbuckling Cossacks of the Ural mountains were the cavire boys of their time.

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The eggs constitute about 10 per cent of the female’s body weight. After the roe is extracted and carefully sieved several times through fine mesh to remove the tissues and membranes from the eggs, it is then steeped in a brine solution. The strength of the solution is very carefully controlled as the extent of salting determines an important quality of the caviare. There are two sorts: caviare in grains and pressed caviare.

There are three types of caviare the most expensive being Beluga; then there is the Ossetra or Ocietrova - it’s spelling differs for the word is transliterated from the Russian. Oscietra (there you are, yet a different spelling!) is considered by many to be the best. It by no means follows that the most expensive caviare necessarily has the best flavour. The third variety is Sevruga which is produced by small sturgeons, which are the most prolific and give very small light to dark-grey eggs. This is the cheapest type.

The pressed caviare is made from the ripest eggs, taken towards the end of the fishing season, which are then compressed.

It seems that because caviare is so delicate it should be eaten solely as a unique experience and not drowned with wine or pints of vodka as it is customary in all good Hollywood versions of life under the Tsars.

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I returned home for a couple of hours, changed and returned to the Portomaso Suite for a caviare dinner. This was indeed whet-your-appetite menu served with enough cutlery to confuse a crown prince.

So, after a lifetime during which I had only had the briefest encounter with real caviare here I was having more caviare moments.

As a starter we were served an oyster with sabayon topped with caviare followed by Smoked Sturgeon Fillets, Cauliflower Cream with poached dumplings and caviare drizzled with truffle oil. The entrée was baptised Symphony of Sturgeon followed by Caviare and Champagne Sorbet. The coffee and petits fours were followed by a pousse café made with caviare.

And all the while there was Anne Marie Camilleri, graciously playing the harp in the background – from short classical pieces to Neopolitan canzoni.The is a sentence I never believed I would write: I enjoyed every morsel I had eaten that day but at half past midnight I felt I could not see another grain of caviar just for that day. I drove back home as if I had someone bleeding to death at the back of my old and faithful Fiat. I slept until 10am the following day. What bliss!! Thank you Caviar Creator! I hope you will make it to Malta.