Ed eats

Garam Masalaa
11, Ta’ Xbiex Seafront,
Msida
Tel: 2134 0489

Food: 8/10
Service: 8/10
Ambience: 7/10
Value: 9/10
Overall: 8/10

Ten years ago, a nationwide restaurant smoking ban would have been unthinkable. We’d have probably thought it impossible to deprive smokers of their right to puff away while enjoying a meal. Everyone, non-smokers included, had been born into a world where it was fine to light up inside a bar or restaurant.

Today, most smokers I know agree with the ban and are very happy to comply with it. We’re all quite aware that we should be considerate with our choices when they affect those around us. I, for one, can’t possibly imagine going back to a smoke-filled restaurant, even if I’m not an anti-smoking person myself.

Let’s take an imaginary leap into the future. Can you picture a nationwide ban on the use of mobile phones in restaurants? It won’t happen. It can’t happen. Take, for instance, parents who enjoy a night out, safe in the knowledge that their teenage children are just a call away if they need to get in touch. Would we want to outlaw this safety net?

At the same time we know how irritating indiscriminate mobile phone use can be. You’ve been out with someone who kept tapping away at a smartphone, keeping up with their friends’ collective misery on Facebook while you’re attempting a conversation (and the term ‘phubbing’ was coined for this act of snubbing your friends in favour of your phone).

Then there’s the person at the adjacent table whose phone won’t stop ringing and whose voice is loud enough to make up for the distance between the restaurant and whoever has just called. I met someone a while ago who said he wouldn’t go to a particular restaurant because mobile reception suffered there. Talk about First World problems.

We’re in a fix though. While a total ban is too draconian, the current situation is spiralling towards the unbearably irritating. There was a restaurant in LA that made the news this time last year. They offered a five per cent discount on the bill if you check in your phone at the door and pick it up on your way out. I’d like to think we will move towards a higher level of collective consideration for those around us until this issue ceases to exist, hopefully without the need for a fiscal incentive.

We’re used to Indian restaurants offering very speedy service. This was not so, and the time we waited translated into food that tasted fresher than I’m used to for this cuisine

I’ve come to think of dining out as a welcome break from my otherwise permanent tether to technology. I make every attempt to be polite and to bury my phone where I won’t see it light up. This is a step forward from flicking the silent switch, only to pick it up when it gave me that doleful, attention-seeking glow. I recommend this. It might feel odd for the first 70 times but you’ll get used to it.

One Sunday I sat at a table at Garam Masalaa and looked at the table wondering what was missing. I’m used to a table having plates, glasses, napkins, cutlery and mobile phones. The lack of phones looked odd but I wasn’t about to give in.

The restaurant’s décor is quite subtle, bordering on the spartan when compared to other Indian restaurants I’ve been to. It does look much better on the inside than it does on the outside though, and I found the pale olive walls and the warm lighting to be quite unobtrusively relaxing.

We had been greeted by a lady who I presume runs the front of house. She’s practical, helpful, friendly and made us feel entirely at home. She pointed out that they were halfway through the shift between wine suppliers, so some of the wines on the menu weren’t available and that they had new ones in the fridge. I took the practical approach and picked one from the fridge rather than have her go through the list.

A minute later she turned up with the wine and menu. She pointed out the price, a reasonable €15 for a bottle of Rosemount’s GTR, before opening and serving it. I like honesty.

The menus don’t have surprises in store. There is a healthy assortment of pakora and samosa for starters, and the sauces we’re used to for main course served with chicken, beef, lamb or fish. A vegetarian option is available, as always, as is the selection of rice and bread that makes sure you won’t walk out of there with a gap in your midriff.

We chose the assorted vegetable pakora and a meat samosa. Just the one would be ample, we were assured. The choice of main course was quite easy for me.

The minute I planned to visit an Indian restaurant, it was a Rogan Josh that sprang to mind, so I ordered this, and was asked about the heat I wished for. Quite confident that I never get the heat I want unless I’m cooking my own food, I asked for it to be prepared as hot as the chef could make it.

“Ten out of 10?” came the reply, helpfully providing a scale for me to order to. I nodded emphatically.

Unusually, Garam Masalaa offers a choice of beef or lamb rogan josh. The Kashmir dish is lamb-based, so I stuck to tradition and picked lamb.

The coconut-based chicken madras was picked by my better half and once again a choice of heat was given. Medium sounded about right. We added a portion of jeera rice that sounded lovely with cumin, cloves and other spices.

When tempted to order even more, our ever-helpful hostess said we’d be fine with this quantity and could order more if we felt like doing so later on. She said it would be a pity to waste food and I agreed wholeheartedly.

When we were ordering, we were told we could choose the heat we liked because everything was prepared from scratch. This was evident in the waiting time. We’re used to Indian restaurants offering very speedy service. This was not so, and the time we waited translated into food that tasted fresher than I’m used to for this cuisine.

The meat samosa was really quite a large portion and was filled with an almost perfumed mound of minced beef. It hadn’t been concealed in a sauce, so it did spill out of its case, but this didn’t stop me from chasing it around the plate.

The vegetable pakora, bite-sized veg fried inside a chickpea flour batter, were also freshly prepared and very tasty. The chickpea flour retains a dry crispness to it so the potato, aubergine and mushrooms inside cook gently and retain all their individual flavours. Poppadums, chutney, sweet chilli and a mint raita kept the variety of flavours and textures going throughout.

Once again, the relatively long wait for the main course was justified by the freshness of the food. The jeera rice, ordered as an accompanying dish to soak up the sauces, turned out to be a star in its own right.

The madras was quite hot, as expected of a dish ordered at medium heat, and kept the lovely flavours of coconut, anise and ginger.

My rogan josh was a pleasant surprise. I finally found the level of heat I expect when ordering a ‘very hot’ dish. The flavour of cloves and cardamom struggled when faced with this fiery dish but this is exactly what I was after. I loved every bit of that dish and ate until I could eat no more.

We had change from €50 by the end of it. We’d eaten our fill of very well-prepared Indian food, drank an admittedly inexpensive bottle of wine, and were treated to friendly and supportive service.

They offer takeout, too, so next time I’m up for some real heat, I know who I’m going to call. And if the stream of people who picked up their takeout while we ate are anything to go by, we’ll be among many very happy diners.

You can send e-mails about this column to ed.eatson@gmail.com or follow @edeats on Twitter.