Ed eats

Il Pirata
Paceville Street
St Julian’s
Tel: 2137 5827

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

The wave of Italian and Sicilian restaurants that are spreading around the island is rolling in quite steadily. If you’ve been to Sicily lately, you’ve probably seen signs of an economic slowdown. Somehow we seem to be faring better so I’m not surprised to see the influx.

From the point of view of someone who eats out regularly, this is a welcome flow of well-priced food that tends to be of a reasonably good quality. Viewing this from the angle that established restaurateurs must be taking, it is a flood of stiff competition.

Those who are happy to take their boat to Sicily for a meal will still do so but then they don’t represent the majority of the population. To the rest of us, this competition means that we get to spend a little less on good-quality food. It is one of those market forces that benefit the consumer so I can’t possibly complain.

One name that I’ve heard quite frequently lately was Il Pirata. Hearing about a restaurant a couple of times is not always a good thing. I consider recommendations about food in a similar way to those that refer to music, film and books. The carrier of the information is at least as important as the information itself. If I know my tastes to match those of the bearer of news, I take on the tip quite enthusiastically.

Somehow, I’d heard of Il Pirata from people whose taste in food I am not yet acquainted with. When my tastebuds are at stake, I err on the side of caution. So for a while I just didn’t bother.

Another factor that had kept me from visiting was the location. Paceville road, Paceville. The row of restaurants in that street vary hugely in level of service and food quality and they include some proper terrors. Add this to my steady retreat from dining anywhere near Paceville and Il Pirata had all but run aground.

When the name popped up a couple more times, I thought I’d take the plunge and waited for an opportunity to do so. This turned up while on the phone with my favourite sister and I insisted that I drag her along. Once she’d said the words, she would have to walk the plank with me. She actually went on to say that she’d heard about the place from someone whose opinion about food wasn’t held in particularly high esteem. I was steadfast.

Four of us piled into one car to take half the grief out of parking and save a tree at the same time. We were incredibly lucky to find a spot just a few metres away and took this as a good omen. The exterior is Spartan to the point of being easily missed but inside the restaurant was a hive of activity. This was a Tuesday night and the rest of the town was practically dormant, saving its energy for the seasonal assault that’s just over the horizon.

The atmosphere is very informal, the food generous and perfectly matched to the price you’re paying for it...

The decor is simple and effective. It is unpretentious and feels more like a restaurant that’s aimed at families than the craziness of a Saturday night in Paceville.

The crew looked like they meant business though and, it would transpire during the evening, they seem perfectly capable of handling quite the onslaught.

A charming, young lady was at our table almost instantly. She was obviously Italian but she spoke to us in English throughout, a welcome change from those who assume we can all speak their language. She was friendly, knew the food that was on offer very well and carried that effortless air that separates the hurried from the efficient.

We went through the menus she’d brought and found a couple of little surprises in there. The emphasis is largely on familiar and traditional Italian food yet they’ve snuck in some slight twists like a focaccia with mushrooms and truffle oil on top with the antipasti. There something for everyone, with pizza, pasta, salads and fish and meat main courses.

We all wanted to eat practically everything so we agreed to order across the menu and then poke our cutlasses in each other’s plates. I was trying to decide between pizza and something from the grill when our waitress turned up and told us there were a number of specialties that evening. These included a grilled New York strip served in its own jus. I was sold and said so but the rest of the table had suddenly changed their minds so we asked for a couple more minutes.

When she returned and took our orders she just asked me how I’d like the NY strip cooked. I’d almost forgotten what I wanted and she hadn’t. The sister ordered spaghetti with clams, the better half picked an octopus stew and the man whose life seems to consist of putting up with my sister ordered a pizza Norma, quite possibly to add a new woman to his life for a short while. I looked on in sympathy.

A couple of minutes later, a young man turned up with a bowl of focaccia. It’s the kind made with a lovely, fluffy, pizza dough and was a really generous portion, topped with tomatoes, herbs and olive oil. We were all ravenous and this was just what we needed.

Between bites we sipped a pretty acceptable Nebbiolo that cost less than €20. Our fears about the way we’d landed at Il Pirata quite quickly subsided.

Our food was served reasonably quickly, particularly since we’d skipped starters. My steak had been beautifully charred on the outside and was rare on the inside so there was just the right gradient between the sear and the warm meat inside. A striploin is about texture and this was a very respectable cut. The spaghetti vongole was the weakest link. The sauce was lovely but the clams themselves had been overcooked and evidently not fresh.

We were familiar with the pizza dough by now so had no doubt the pizza would be great. It was quite sparsely topped but this works well with the intensity of salty ricotta. The octopus stew was served with two thick slices of toasted bread and was tender and masterfully seasoned.

Only one of us had room for dessert but I won’t call him out to keep you guessing. He ordered the cannolo Siciliano and, quite conveniently, this turned up as a portion of four, small cannoli.

They were decent but nothing special at all. What was special was the chef’s treat to the table, a plate of tiny, warm imqaret with a dollop of ice cream and honey drizzled on top. They taste even better than they sound.

We paid a perfectly reasonable €20 each, feeling like we’d actually robbed a pirate. The popularity of this restaurant is quite understandable. The atmosphere is very informal, the food generous and perfectly matched to the price you’re paying for it, and the service we experienced was hard to fault.

I walked out thinking that it was almost a pity that they’d chosen Paceville as a location but then figured that Paceville actually deserves this kind of pirate.

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