Ed eats
Chez Philippe
181, The Strand
Gżira
Tel: 2133 0755
Food: 8/10
Service: 8/10
Ambience: 8/10
Value: 6/10
Overall: 7.5/10
“Dogs have personality. And personality goes a long way.” It might not be the most famous line in movie history (especially after I corrected the grammar) but it does say one thing about personality. If you have it, whatever it is, it will serve you well. Lose it and you’re wallowing in that unremarkable grey fuzz of anonymity until you find it again.
If you have it, it will serve you well. Lose it and you’re wallowing in that grey fuzz of anonymity
Just like Jules who immortalised those words in Pulp Fiction, I’m not tagging a value judgement to the term ‘personality’. Even the most unbearable, insufferable, incurable of rogues can have heaps of personality that keep him from sinking into facelessness. In what other universe would two words like ‘loveable’ and ‘rogues’ have come together so intimately?
I remember a time when Chez Philippe was Chez Philippe but had a sign on the door saying Bon Pain. I don’t recall how long it took for the sign on the door to change but Philippe didn’t seem to be bothered with it for quite a while. Lunch there was an experience, dinner even more so.
One time it seemed like he’d run out of everything I tried to order off the menu. He sat at table with me, leaned in close, and admitted he had just one serving of a fabulous foie gras left and there might have been some duck for main course.
He recommended a wine and eventually shared the bottle with us. The evening was bizarre, hugely entertaining and, quite evidently, memorable. The man has personality. And personality goes a long way.
Some time ago the place changed hands. It is now run by his niece and she had quite a strange pair of shoes to fill. Food was good if not great, the place had truckloads of personality that some might love and some might hate. The décor was simple and effective. I wondered how, in the hands of another person, the legacy could continue unabated.
I’ll spoil the surprise and say it hasn’t. I’ll qualify that though by reminding you that personality does not need to fit within a particular set of parameters to be memorable and that the new Chez Philippe still has heaps of charm.
Different, in this case, is definitely not a bad thing.
The bistrot-style cuisine has remained. I loved that then, and I love it now. The simple décor has gone, replaced by an altogether more accomplished interior that is, in an understated way, quite classy. I loved it then, and I love it now.
We danced in for lunch on a Saturday and were very lucky to find a single table left that could accommodate us. As I walked in, I found I happened to know the people at more than half of the occupied tables. I’m still not sure what this says about the place.
The restaurant was filled with the sound of polite chatter, jazz music in the background and the merry chink of cutlery that met crockery. This place even sounds like a bistrot.
A menu board had the specials of the day chalked on it and the menu itself is an interesting list of dishes that are familiar but some have a definite twist to them that helps define the kitchen. Foie gras is on the menu but here it is served as a duo, one of which is my favourite mi cuit.
Gravadlax is also on the menu, as is a caprese salad, so even before leaving the starters section, we’ve toured quite a few latitudes within Europe.
The main courses are a little more timid and cater for the most boring of diners with a chicken breast with Parma ham. You really have to have given up all hope of ever having skill in the kitchen to order this.
Three of us ordered the pumpkin soup for starters. I thought I’d try the pork patties purely because so much healthy food around me needed someone to restore celestial balance.
While the foie gras was tempting, it is a little steep at €15 for a starter, and I don’t like pushing the price up unfairly when I’m judging a restaurant’s value.
The wine menu is also quite pricey for a bistrot at lunchtime but a particular wine caught my eye. It is quite cheerfully called Le Petit Vin D’Avril and is, according to the menu, a Chez Philippe exclusive. At €19 between four of us it was a risk well worth taking.
While we waited, bruschetta with a black olive tapenade was served. This turned out to be a highly appreciated change from the typical variety and welcome attention to detail.
The wine was a pleasant surprise. Being a vin de table, the most humble of classifications, there is little that the label is allowed to say about it. I’m guessing it is a Southern Rhone, probably based on Grenache, that made for a clean and easy drinking wine with bright fruit, crisp acidity and no surprises in store. The label is lovely, the price is right, and our afternoon was all the better for it.
Starters were served quite quickly. The presentation is simple and effective, with large soup bowls containing a very wholesome pumpkin soup. Unusually for pumpkin soup, it had not been overly meddled with and actually tasted of pumpkin. It should have been the dish that heralded winter but November has quite resolutely refused to heed our call and that of the pumpkin soup.
My pork patties looked prettier than they tasted. They were fine but unremarkable, as pork patties are. The more you do to them, the more they morph into sausage, so I appreciated the simplicity and was quite happily underwhelmed.
For main course, we’d had the presence of mind to scale down to three main dishes between the four of us. One of us had a salmon fillet in sticky soy sauce all to herself. The rest of us shared the special mixed meat dish of the day, a combo of Black Angus T-bone and peppered fillet steak that is meant to serve two.
The salmon fillet was one of those perfect cuts that is almost suspiciously like a pre-pack but tasted better than that. I’m not one for sticky sweet sauces with my salmon but I wasn’t the one who’d ordered it and she was devouring it quite happily.
The meat was excellent by all measures. The cooking temperature we requested had been respected and both cuts were served rare. The fillet, crusted with black peppercorn, was a tender and well-aged cut with the crusty exterior hiding a tender and richly flavoured interior. The T-bone had been carved for us, with a red interior peeping out at us beneath the chargilled surface. The striploin side was a little disappointing but the tenderloin was a joy.
The two of us with room for more had passion fruit sorbets, and in the name of this column, I tasted one. It was intense and creamy, almost halfway to an ice cream, and had the right amount of sweetness to allow the slightly sour note of this brightly coloured fruit to bite back.
Service was cheerful, helpful and bubbly throughout. At every point we felt we were taken care of without an overbearing presence. There is an informality to the approach that made sure everyone was at ease, but there was no one to share our wine or talk about it. I’m not saying I miss it. I’m merely pointing out a difference.
The bill was a little steep at €32 each, particularly considering we’d shared a single bottle of wine between four and had missed out on a main course.
Other than that, Chez Philippe had delivered a fabulous afternoon. The personality is different and somewhat toned down but judging by our experience, has what it takes to go a very long way.
You can send e-mails about this column to ed.eatson@gmail.com or follow @edeats on Twitter.