Ed eats
Sciacca Grill
South Street
Valletta
Tel: 2123 7222
Food: 8/10
Service: 6/10
Ambience: 7/10
Value: 6/10
Overall: 7/10
On the menu today we have a short story for starters, and my take on a restaurant I’ve been meaning to try for a while as main course. We’ll most likely do without dessert, for these are demanding times.
The story is that of a fashion designer. He is undoubtedly an artist and has invested significantly in the process by which he seeks inspiration, designs his oeuvres and displays them proudly for all to see. He’s bought a lovely, high street boutique and has done it up to the highest standards. His creations have been given rave reviews across the magazines and blogs that matter. Some pretty important people and some important pretty people have chosen to wear his garments.
Somehow, however, the high street shop is not performing well. So the fashion designer contracts a retail consultant to figure out what the problem is. Three days later the consultant turns up and confirms most of what he already knows. She says his creations are quite hard to fault and the boutique is ever so lovely.
But the staff he has employed to deal with customers are not doing justice to the garments. Every guy and girl in the shop is an expert at fashion and has had previous experience but they are not well acquainted with the designer’s unique creations.
The consultant recommends that the designer simply dedicates time to sharing his vision and his passion with every member of the team on the shop floor. This way, they will embrace the spirit with which he does what he does and will share this with every customer who walks through the doors.
The designer fires the consultant, calls his marketing manager and gives him the same mandate. Three days later, the marketing manager turns up, saying everything is just perfect and, if they want to increase sales, they need to start using that fancy new material that a competing designer is causing a stir with and display these in an even more radical way than before. The designer gives his marketing manager a raise and proceeds to do as told.
Quite naturally, this alienates the shop floor staff even more. They hadn’t been well versed with the previous contents of the boutique and this new material displayed on all kinds of weird contraptions, has them entirely confounded. Reluctantly, the designer realises that the consultant might have been right after all and sets about defining his purpose and his vision, intent on sharing them with every member of his staff that actually meets clients.
You know where this is going. The designs represent dishes at a great restaurant. The shop floor is the dining area. The fashion experts who meet clients are the service staff. And as far-fetched as the story might sound, I’ve encountered it all too often.
Sciacca Grill in Valletta is one of these places. Whoever had the vision of turning this huge space into a neatly done up restaurant had a very clear mission – that of creating a hybrid between an unusual approach to steak and an incredible whisky selection within a clean and contemporary space.
The walls are clad in light-coloured wood, the floors are in a similar vein, and the bare tables are also made out of heavy wood. There is a row of booths along one wall, so all four members of a party sit on comfy couches. Seeing that there were only around five tables occupied in what is quite a large dining space, I asked for one of these booths. They’re all reserved, the girl claimed.
I naturally didn’t believe this and would have preferred to be told that they only allocate these to parties of four. Instead I sat at one of the tables in the middle of the restaurant while these booths remained unoccupied all evening.
We went unnoticed for quite a while until one of the girls realised this and turned up with menus. We were told to pick our starters and side dishes from the menus and then walk up to the counter at the far end of the restaurant to choose our main course from the meat selection there. I was intrigued.
The starters are all quite interesting, and they include imaginative dishes like venison with blackcurrant powder and a parsnip crisp. The crostini included one with lardo di colonnata and I was sold on the foursome. The carnivore who joined me went with the traditional beef tartare served with egg yolk, capers and shallots. We also decided on grilled vegetables and jacket potato. I was the one ordering jacket potato because I love it and because there was the option to have this served with even more lardo di colonnata, which as you’ve guessed by now, I have a weakness for.
We made up our mind and had no idea what to do. We weren’t about to walk to the counter unaccompanied so we stayed put for a while. Eventually the young lady who had explained the menus approached us and asked us to follow her. We did so and were soon at a chilled counter, not unlike the one you’re used to at a butcher’s shop. The selection of meat is quite extensive and looked really inviting.
The meat has been carefully dry-aged so it isn’t the sort of vibrant red shiny stuff you get at most butchers. Our insistence on ‘fresh’ meat and the economic benefit to the butcher means that we’re served beef too fresh to actually taste its best when filleted and grilled.
There were Australian, Aberdeen, USDA and other sources of meat for us to choose from and I picked a sirloin that had a lovely strap of fat on top while the carnivore opted for a rib-eye
There were Australian, Aberdeen, USDA and other sources of meat for us to choose from and I picked a sirloin that had a lovely strap of fat on top while the carnivore opted for a rib-eye. While we chose, our host had moved away to give us space so we just hung around feeling awkward. One of the chefs had mercy and took our order for everything, including starters and sides, in a polite and efficient way. She wasn’t a member of the front of house staff, yet she knew exactly what to do and how to do it.
Back at our table we peeked at the wine list. With around a hundred wines it is not extensive but does the trick, and I picked a Crozes Hermitage that is priced roughly halfway through the range. I was expecting a much vaster list. The endless rows of whisky bottles behind the bar made me think that if they stocked such a vast selection of whiskies, they should have at least the same number of wines. It turns out that there are more than 500 whiskies on the list, making the wine selection appear quite puny in comparison.
Our starters were served quite quickly and the crostini are served as rather large slices of toasted bread on an ungarnished dish. The girl who served them started with ‘aubergine…’ and gave up so I pointed at each reciting, “…and mint, lardo di colonnata, prosciutto and pig chutney, and pea and pecorino”. The tartare needed no introduction.
The one with the salted, seasoned fat on the toasted bread was a simple delight. The aubergine and mint was quite interesting, as was the combination of pea purée and grated pecorino. I only tasted a little of the prosciutto and fig chutney one because this combination is guaranteed to wipe out your palate too early in the meal. The tartare was quite decent, too, with finely chopped shallots mixed with the chopped meat, the yolk served, as tradition dictates, on top of the meat, and the capers tastefully scattered around the central tower.
Our main courses were also served in good time, with the steaks atop a wooden board and the veg in metal dishes. Both steaks were done a little over our request for rare but were perfectly acceptable and had been rested before they were served. The sirloin is really hard to fault, with a lovely texture and a rich buttery flavour from the melted fat. The exterior had been seared at a very high temperature and the charring was just right, adding a smokey overtone to the mix. Unfortunately, the rib-eye was nowhere near as great. It was simply a good steak but paled in comparison.
As accomplished as my sirloin were the jacket potato and the grilled vegetables. These were charred on the outside and just done on the inside so they retained all their flavour.
I had to end my meal with a whisky and, in a tribute to the charring I’d just enjoyed, went with my favourite Islay malts for its heady blanket of peat, while the carnivore sipped an Averna.
We paid almost €60 each for the meal and walked back out on to the hushed streets of our city by night. The missing link between the kitchen and the diner is possibly the only real fault, and one that can be easily rectified.
A little effort at sharing the vision that led to this restaurant with the people who actually meet patrons can transform Sciacca Grill into a wonderfully unique night out.
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