Ed eats
The Grassy Hopper
St George’s Street
Gżira
Tel: 2131 1676
Food: 8/10
Service: 8/10
Ambience: 8/10
Value: 7/10
Overall: 8/10
There’s an elephant in this column that I need to take care of right away. The restaurant in question serves exclusively vegetarian food. If you’re not a vegetarian, then I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to read the rest of this column for a fellow omnivore’s point of view. If you’re a vegetarian and haven’t heard of the The Grassy Hopper, well, I suppose you’re a hermit and not reading this paper at all. Those of you who know the place may turn to the travel pages since you know how this is going down. And thus triage is sorted.
I’m guessing I’m addressing omnivores now so here’s my take on vegetarian food. To me it represents both a movement with a strong message as well as a specific kind of cuisine in the way we treat sushi or slow cooking as technical variations. I’ll deal chiefly with vegetarian food as a culinary style. And like every other style, it brings art and love and science into play to use a restricted set of ingredients to nourish and delight.
Put that way, it is hard to see why some people have rather emotional reactions when this particular kitchen is discussed. There are those horrified at being cheated of meat with their meal and there are those aghast at the prospect of eating an animal. I’ll leave each to their own polarised view and stick to a safer middle ground. I’ll eat vegetarian in the presence of those who prefer it, even if I have other options. I’ll eat anything when I’m left to my own devices. And this includes eating vegetarian if I know it tastes good, regardless of the company I’m with.
I’d tried the food by The Grassy Hopper back when it was no more than a food truck. From those humble beginnings spawned a takeout in Valletta and, more recently, a proper eat-in place in Gżira. I was taken there first by a friend who loves food as much as she loves shoes, and is an authority on both whenever she steps into a room. If she was recommending the place, it had stood up to her formidable scrutiny. This is more than enough for me.
We popped in for lunch and the place was quite busy. When I revisited the place a couple of days later, there wasn’t a single seat available. The restaurant is off the main road and enjoys little to no passing-by trade. Everyone in the room had wound up here quite deliberately.
The place is welcoming and very simply and tastefully decorated. Breeze blocks and pallets form a little vertical garden that keeps things interesting for those eating in the open-air area. Inside, wooden chairs in pretty colours and round tables have a massive blackboard as a backdrop on one side and a mural on the other. An open kitchen is separated from the dining area by a counter that’s made of more bricks.
Everyone working at The Grassy Hopper seems really happy to be doing so and this is probably what contributes most to the charm of the place. Placing an order at the bar is a pleasant and exceptionally well-informed process. The girl who took my order knew the food, recommended particular items when I hesitated, and made nothing of my evident lack of familiarity with the menu. At one point in its history, there was a swelling wave of snobbery associated with the movement. This has gone, replaced by a peaceful army of well-intended individ-uals who are, above all, respectful.
The place is welcoming and very simply and tastefully decorated
That first visit was a thoroughly enjoyable experience. The food was great. It was full of flavour, texture and colour. It satisfied on all levels, without having to be compared to any other type of kitchen. This stands on its own two sturdy tree trunks, kicking the buttocks of those shameful little fast food ‘veggie burgers’ that have caused so much horror for so long as they posed as alternatives to beef.
The service was also nigh on impossible to fault. Our teas, for instance, were served with a smile and recommended brewing time for each of us – my peppermint would take longer to achieve the same intensity. They were served inside this awfully clever device that brews quietly and then dispenses tea into your cup, an ingenious take on the teapot that I wanted to take home with me. They predicted people like me and so they sell the device. Only they’d sold so many they’d run out.
So as soon as I could, I went back, this time with the firmly carnivorous better half in tow. I thought this would be quite the test. The first trial was my choice to leave and return half an hour later instead of simply pick an alternative source of food. This went quietly, possibly because she was intrigued by my enthusiasm for the food.
Then we got to the menu. I was tempted to retry the spicy chickpea burger but was curious about the beet and bean one. The menu is something of a daily affair. It changes depending on the fruit and veg that’s available and, based on my limited experience, included salads, wraps, soups and burgers.
We decided to try both burgers and ordered a juice each to go with it. There’s a juice of the day and I liked what had happened when I’d ordered it the first time around. This time it was a fennel, orange, and cucumber juice with ginger and a pinch of salt. It sounded bizarrely good to me, mainly because there would be nothing sweet in it. It tasted even better than I’d imagined it but this is not for those who aren’t ready to venture beyond orange juice.
Our burgers were served pretty quickly. A large, toasted, wholemeal bun is served with a thick patty that is even larger than the bun and a small salad on the side. The patty was slightly sweet thanks to the beet and the beans added a slightly nutty flavour. I quite enjoyed this but realised that I should have stuck with my first love. I took a bite out of the better half’s chickpea and chilli and my love was rekindled. The chickpea is delicately seasoned and has a lovely texture to it, with a final zap from the chilli as an aftertaste.
The side salad is served quite naked and is nothing particular by way of side salads. My expectations were much higher than usual here. There’s a pretty good reason for this. It is in the shape of a bookcase full of condiments that one is meant to add to their food and there’s enough in there for you create the flavour you prefer.
By the end of it I was pleasantly satiated and was up for another of their teas. Possibly because the geek, or should I say child, in me wanted to play with the teapot again. I asked for a surprise tea because, quite frankly, I only knew about a fourth of the ones they have on offer. It turned out to be an interestingly fragrant blend of white tea and berry, with the latter lending a little astringency to the mild-mannered tea leaf.
I resisted the array of sweets and paid just over €10 each for a lunchtime experience that’s pretty unique and quite hard to beat.
If you’re an omnivore and have read so far, I suggest you give it a shot. At worst, no harm will befall you. At best you’ll walk out of there with a smile on your face and a spring in your step, feeling full of food that won’t weigh you down and with another worthwhile gastronomic experience under your belt.
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