Ed eats

Garam Masalaa
Qawra Seafront
Qawra
Tel: 2157 5787

Food: 8/10
Service: 7/10
Ambience: 4/10
Value: 6/10
Overall: 6/10

I was refused service three times last week. Even though it sounds like I should revisit my personal hygiene routine, every time it was because I’d failed to place a reservation. It sounds like the right time to be in the restaurant business.

The first time it was a Friday night. I went to Balluta to try out a restaurant I’d been meaning to visit and, quite cheekily, walked in expecting there to be a table waiting for me. I walked to another restaurant I’d also been curious about and the exact same thing happened. Then I walked to Fresco’s and had a great evening. The service, at least in the case of the man who took care of us, was exemplary, and we wound up having a really pleasant evening. I’d reviewed the place a couple of years ago and I’m always delighted when a restaurant retains consistency so I feel they deserve a second mention.

The next day I was on the phone with my mum and she mentioned a small restaurant in Qawra that she’d heard, from a source I verified as quite the gourmand, was worth a visit. Well then, I’d kidnap her and drag her along so that if her source failed her, she’d do more than sympathise with my tales of woe.

This put me in quite the spot. It meant there would be three of us at table that night, and guess who stood no chance of ever being right? After getting lost and asking my phone for directions, I finally found the place and was told that we’d have to return with a reservation, despite there not being a single occupied table.

Luckily, we were close to Garam Masalaa. I love the place in Msida, particularly for takeout. And now I was quite keen on a fiery dish that would match the pain in my heart after having been rejected three times in two nights. Soon we’ll be placing restaurant reservations on Tinder.

Peeking into the more recent Garam Masalaa, there was evidence of a much more refined interior than the one in Msida. Past a couple of tables, one has to walk past the open kitchen and into a large dining area. The decor doesn’t quite make up for the size of this rectangular space though. While the finish is very tastefully themed and uses some lovely materials, it is lost in what feels like a vast canteen. Just outside this is an even larger area that’s presumably an al fresco terrace when the weather decides to play ball. This is furnished with garish garden chairs.

The menu feels more streamlined than I remember it to be from my experiences at the Msida iteration

We hadn’t placed a reservation so we wound up on one of those awkward tables in the middle of the room. Business was brisk that night as well, so one can’t help but feeling like a roundabout that’s there to hinder the front of house as they do all they can to keep up.

The young lady who was assigned to our table was a gem and managed to hurry from one place to the next while giving us all the time we needed when she was at our table.

She was helpful and knew the food so she could answer the questions that headed her way about specific ingredients. We’d had a discussion about how many courses to go for, mainly because we couldn’t be there too long, and decided we’d skip starters and settle for a single course.

I naturally broke my promise while ordering, adding a couple of portions of poppadums to start with, just in case. They’re hardly a starter, I explained, and was met with sympathetic nodding. My suggestion of wine, on the other hand, was met with a chorus of approval.

At this point I pull out a mental list of things I need to think about during a quiet moment, drift gently out of the conversation at table and start ticking items off the list. It is more polite, in my case, than attempting to join the conversation and I also get work done. As long as I’m quiet, I win twice.

It is also time for me to look around the restaurant. As with many other Indian restaurants I’ve visited, there was this one man who stands somewhere close to the bar or the kitchen. He is usually older than the rest of the staff and stands there rooted, occasionally barking orders at seemingly random moments to seemingly random members of the team.

I’ve never understood how this helps improve efficiency. Maybe it is just something for people like me to observe, be curious about and return as often as possible in an attempt to unravel the mystery.

As you can tell, I had plenty of time to think about this. The poppadums just wouldn’t turn up. When they eventually did, I devoured them with a little bit of the chutney and a whole lot of the lovely mint sauce.

Then I went back to observing the restaurant and picking up my list where I’d left off, only this time fortified with poppadum. It was filling with people quite steadily and there didn’t seem to be a steady stream of food coming from the kitchen.

The menu feels more streamlined than I remember it to be from my experiences at the Msida iteration, possibly because they’ve steered away from separating lamb, beef and chicken dishes, offering a list of sauces that you choose a meat for. It sounds like an efficient system, so perhaps they were just having a tougher evening than most.

When the food arrived, it was worth the wait. The Khoomb Palak, a mushroom and spinach curry, was a very pleasant surprise. I started with it because I expected it to be the mildest of dishes, especially since we’d ordered it as such. It was masterfully seasoned and made me realise that I don’t order vegetarian curries half as often as I should.

Next up I tried the Tikka Masalaa. When ordering we had been asked how hot we wanted each dish, rating heat from one to 10 if it helped. This was the one we’d pegged a five to and it was just right. The heat was present but nicely tempered with the tomato and yoghurt, and it allowed a fragrant blend of spices to come through.

As predicted, the vindaloo I’d ordered to drown my sorrows was hot. I’d asked for a 10 and this came close to an eight-and-a-half, much more than I ever get anywhere on these islands except at Garam Masalaa in Msida.

When asked whether we’d like dessert, I starting nodding my head gently but this was overruled so I just turned it into an awkward little neck stretch. The ladies ordered the sweet halwa and I reminded them that the previous two courses had taken a while.

They assured me that this would not be the case this time and, two minutes later, we had our dessert at table. The halwa is made with carrots and is creamy and sweet. It is initially quite unusual but after a few bites I was quite taken by the rich, textured consistency and the occasionally nutty crunch.

Somehow, perhaps because of the size and format of the place, paying €80 for the three of us almost felt excessive. Yet they’d taken us in where others hadn’t and they’d treated us really well into the bargain. And their vindaloo now occupies a special place in my heart, so I’ll return to it if I’m ever refused service again.

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