We peck each other on the cheek, the French cap almost hitting my eye like a bullet, and I watch Mary Rose Mallia turn the key in the lock and walk inside her house.
Rewind…
Vin Oranng, at No. 9, Magazzini Street, is one of those wine bars you can’t miss once you walk past the back gate of Mdina. One of the most remarkable things about this place is the ambience which some design disciple has turned into a trendy hotspot where the coolest yuppie meets the sassy wannabee shooting out a series of “ahaaaa.. I know… can you pass me the tazza please ghax I’m really hekk… tipsy!”
There is a lower level with a set of tables positioned in front of the bar area where patrons can sit on high stools and let the strains imposed by modern living simply melt away. A wooden staircase leads you to the upper level – a loft-like ghetto blazing a trail of orange-tinted glows that engulf you in a profound state of well-being.
The lighting is so perfect I would be the first one to chop off their hands if the current owners of this beautiful place ever dare change anything! I also love the leather couches that create a pleasantly stratified atmosphere, and are perfect for bigger groups, or those who want to sit in a more intimate way. They might not be the most comfortable couches I have sat on, but a young couple in a blissful state of snogging, seem to have a different opinion. We hog a leather couch next to them, and interrupt their moment of pleasure.
Mary Rose seems to love the place. I am looking forward to a pleasant evening with this lady whom I met for the first time when I was 10 years old. Back then, my mother dragged me to some audition for the King and I, a show produced by West-End director Peter Mitchley. I ended up landing the role of Prince Chulalongkorn and Mary Rose was Lady Thiang – my mother! (Authors note: For all those wondering if I’m an actor, I can rest their minds that I am not. I just had this once-in-a-lifetime experience and it stopped there!).
Mary Rose is dressed to kill! Black seems to be a favourite colour with most of my guests, but she chooses to go a step further and wears a wool and cotton French cap which gives her a very distinct style. Her Betty Davies eyes are blackened to look even more dramatic, and her cheeks are tinted with a soft brown shade, that probably comes from the same shop her lipstick was purchased.
“Are you more of an actress or more of a singer?” I quiz as we wait to be served.
“I can’t choose,” she says boldly – And I know I should not persist with the topic.
The manageress at Vin Oranng finally appears and gives us her full attention. She could be a cross between a young Cher and Cleopatra and seems to have a flair for drama. She explains to us that right now they have no wine menus because they have over 280 new wines and they are still preparing the menu. However, she asks if we prefer whites, reds or rosés, and in a flash reappears with four wine bottles which are her recommendations for our evening.
I will say it out aloud. She is adorable and very well-informed about wines, grapes and where they come from. The Cleopatra hairdo makes her even more dramatic, and she balances her long legs on spiky heels which seem to have the nerve of being extremely comfortable. Her mini-skirt is not kept in mothballs, I realise, because I remember being at Vin Oranng in the past, and the skimpy mini is a familiar sight! We are presented with a Secreto Sauvignon from Chile, a tempting Alcanta from Spain, a Nobil Sala from Sicily, and a Rami, also from Sicily.
Our Maltese Cleopatra expertly describes the wines in a very professional manner, including prices. She knows exactly how dry it is, or how peachy it is, and when Mary Rose settles for the Nobil Sala from Sicily (which I also lobby for), she goes on to tell us more about it.
“We do not have a food menu,” she explains, “But we can fix you a nice platter with salamis and cheeses.” A smile, a flutter of the lashes, and she trots away with the four wine bottles on ankle boots Madonna would have killed for.
Meanwhile, Mary Rose reminisces on her past when she was contracted as a singer with a German record label – Saach Records – under the name Mary Charles. She was away from our island for 16 years, during which time she enjoyed rubbing elbows with some very high-profile songwriters and artistes, and was even offered to star in a musical which was written for her.
I enjoy listening to her as she goes on a trip to memory lane and back, until we start discussing her current works in which her talent is resurrected in local TV dramas.
Cleo is back with the wine and tells us that their policy is to change the wine in case we do not like it (in fact, she will ask you a minimum of eight times if you are “sure you like the wine?”). I just love this girl!
As if on cue, the male manager surfaces with a sumptuous platter of various salamis, cold cut mortadella, sun-dried tomatoes, tasty olives, bigilla, tomato dips, various cheeses and galletti. Everything is very fresh, and genuine, and Cleo asks us if all is okay (again).
Everything is perfect, but Mary Rose is not so cheese-friendly, so I ask the manager if he could kindly substitute some of the lovely cheeses with more salami. He very politely tells me that he will bring us more salamis and mortadella on the house, and the cheeses can stay. What a service! I keep realising that most of the wine bars on this island have caught up with being customer oriented and deliver a personal service to their patrons. We dig into the platter with a new-found energy, and sip on the Sicilian wine.
I ask Mary Rose what she would change about herself if she could, and she says: “My weight!” An honest answer, but very frankly, I think Mary Rose is lovable exactly as she is. She is a very hearty person who has many stories to tell, and one who has my admiration for gearing herself to do something about the talents God blessed her with. “I want to know,” I ask guilelessly as the evening is reaching an end, “which Maltese actor/actress will never get an Academy Award?”
She thinks about it, and I fear she will back off from the question. But, no Sir! She flicks her hair backwards and leans forward. “One particular actress in Gizelle,” she whispers with a sense of complicity. We finish off the white wine, and summon the bill. The platter costs us €16, and the Sicilian wine €18, a justified price for such a delightful evening.
The ambience, the food, and the wine pass my test with flying colours, and Cleo is certainly the cherry on the cake! She clearly loves to do what she does, and she does it in an inimitable way. The music at Vin Oranng starts off on the right note, but then gets slightly louder as the evening progresses, which is probably uncalled for. The toilets are well sized, with a nice colour scheme, but they should hang a towel somewhere because I could not get the hand dryer to work.
This is certainly one wine bar to discover if you have not been to it yet. I hope you will get the same friendly service, the same good food, and the wonderful Cleopatra on heels and miniskirt!
privateye@timesofmalta.com