Scoglitti is right down on the water’s edge, in the building that was once a police station.

Ed eats

Scoglitti
8, Triq il-Lanċa
Marsamxett
Tel: 2123 5548

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

This column is meant to be somehow useful to diners who read the newspaper that so kindly hosts it. This was made quite clear to me early on by the editorial team, mainly in response to my request to review restaurants that aren’t located anywhere on our archipelago. I do enjoy travelling and, as you can imagine, food is an essential part of my travels in more ways than one.

Sharing my experiences with a whole lot of people who will most likely never visit the place I’d been to, let alone the exact same restaurant, would be a very self-centred endeavour. Sicily, however, is close and inexpensive enough for most to visit. I popped by last weekend and, among many, many meals crammed into two days, visited the seaside town of Scoglitti. You’ve probably heard of the town. Anyone who has been to Sicily and enjoys eating seafood has their favourite restaurant there.

I’m not going into details about my meal there, because I promised I wouldn’t dedicate a review to a restaurant that’s ‘abroad’, no matter how accessible. Suffice it to say that the seafood was fresh, plentiful, expertly prepared, incredibly varied, and very, very inexpensive.

Somehow, every one of the more renowned restaurants in this town manages to consistently turn out simple and effective ways to deal with everything the Mediterranean has to offer. If it was swimming around, clinging on to a rock, or just darting around like a good cephalopod should some time last week, they’ve found a way to catch it and prepare an enticing dish out of it.

Somewhat confusingly, I had a conversation with someone who said someone else had eaten at Scoglitti. I asked which restaurant there, ignoring the slightly odd preposition. A weak sitcom situation ensued briefly, until I figured out that Scoglitti was also the name of a restaurant in Marsamxett Harbour.

The friend of the friend, known for her high culinary expectations, had enjoyed it. Indirect as the recommendation was, I decided I’d give it a shot when the opportunity presented itself.

The first decision was whether to go there for lunch or dinner. Both would provide a remarkable view. The restaurant is right down on the water’s edge, in the building that was once a police station. This means you’re granted a view of the entire harbour, from Sa Maison all the way to Tigné, with the beautifully-restored Fort Manoel offering very pleasant punctuation in between.

Then, as it often does, life threw me at Scoglitti when I least expected it to. At least the preposition made sense this time. It was one of those rare weekdays when I didn’t have to rush back to the office after lunch and I was close to Valletta, so lunch it would be.

I was lucky to park quite close and, by the time I’d left, the car in front of me had been replaced with a boat the size of a small house. Marsamxett does that sometimes.

We were met at the door by a very polite man who spoke to us in English. Even though the entire staff seemed to be Italian, not one of them spoke to us in their language. This is a relief. The arrogant assumption made by those who treat all and sundry to Italian is irritating to those who can’t speak the language.

If you think this is a superfluous issue in Malta, you’ve just given away your age and your detachment from the younger generations. Those born after the advent of cable TV weren’t forced to watch dubbed movies and manic quiz shows imported from Italy. They only earned the language half-heartedly in school. And they’ll be leading the country and paying our pensions, possibly simultaneously, so better keep them happy.

The staff at Scoglitti luckily get this and communicate quite adequately in English. The service was for the most part of a very high level throughout lunch and, with the exception of a couple of delays, this helped create a thoroughly enjoyable afternoon.

The raw fish dish was just perfect. Restrained seasoning, the right temperature, different cuts, colours, flavours and textures come together to show that simply prepared fresh ingredients are all one needs to really enjoy what the sea so kindly provides

The menus are dominated by seafood. There is a reasonable meat offering, but you can tell where their heart lies. The offering is very firmly Sicilian, and the spread is one that will have you agonising over which dish to leave behind when ordering. I decided to be a little nasty. This kind of place should serve the most sumptuous fresh fish from an impressive choice of species. I’d pick a fish dish from the menu, the one the chef placed there for those who don’t really eat fish unless it’s disguised.

The better half had a plan. She was going for as much fish as she could for starters and then settle in for a risotto with langoustine. The starter was the top of the pops on the menu, a selection of raw seafood that included red prawn, langoustine, swordfish, tuna, and salmon.

I was almost settled on the pepata di cozze, looking forward to the messy fun this inevitably provides. Further down there was the less pedestrian sautée of clams, and I was sold.

The wine menu is, quite naturally, skewed in favour of Sicilian wines. I was happy to see a Bianco di Nera and was in the mood for its celebratory mild fizz and its fresh structure. Orders taken, we sat back and enjoyed the unbelievable location.

Our starters took a little while – just enough time to be sure they’re freshly prepared and not long enough to lead to exasperation. Thoughtfully, a lovely bruschetta filled the gap so the wait was hardly perceptible.

The raw fish dish was just perfect. Restrained seasoning, the right temperature, different cuts, colours, flavours and textures come together to show that simply prepared fresh ingredients are all one needs to really enjoy what the sea so kindly provides.

A little dill with the salmon, a couple of drops of vinegar here and there, the right olive oil, sparing use of salt and a lot of love and experience in the kitchen turn every mouthful into a delight. Taste a little, sip the Bianco di Nera, taste another bit, repeat.

My sautée was just as accomplished. The clams were fresh – really fresh – and meaty and cooked just to the point where they’re still a little fleshy in the mouth and this retains their texture and flavour. The broth was a simple and effective vehicle that one ought to dip at least one slice of fresh bread in at the end, no matter what etiquette dictates.

Once again, the main course took a while. One cannot, and should not, rush a risotto. I’d ordered the grouper and it turned out to be a generous portion of this solitary inhabitant of our coastline. It was covered in a sauce of cherry tomatoes, olives and a rather intense fish broth and lay on top of diced veg. A side dish of excellent roast potato completed the meal.

The fish was firm and moist and probably not the freshest one in the house, which is where the sauce came in handy.

The risotto was great, with plenty of langoustine and a rather timid sauce that, were I to be picky, I’d consider slightly under-seasoned.

The rice was cooked perfectly and retained a little bite to it, and the langoustine shells on top helped complete the presentation, even if they’d been emptied into the risotto before they reached our table.

We finished off with coffee and paid €50 each for the meal. It is not a lot to pay for very fresh fish, efficient service, and a perfect location. It might not be the price you’d spend on lunch every day but you owe yourself this kind of treat once in a while. Think of it as eating great fish inside a postcard, and while you’re at it, remember it’s one of the privileges that living on an island like ours brings with it.

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