Ed eats

Ħamrun Kiosk
Pjazza San Pawl
Ħamrun
Tel: 2124 8989

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

I can’t bear to think of having to eat the same food every day. No matter how much I fall in love with a dish, I quickly get bored. Every morning, after my first scream of horror has subsided, I wonder whether there is life after breakfast. Then, as the night’s haze clears a little more, I start to plan lunch.

This is something of a necessity. Working tends to keep many of us in the same spot all day. And this could mean you’ll wind up eating the same food, or at least food from the same source, every day.

This works out well for those who have the common sense to stick with a winning formula. Their loyalty is rewarded with consistency and it helps keep their favourite lunchtime spot in business.

I’m not so loyal. Even if there are a couple of decent options a stone’s throw away from my office, I never quite become a regular. There’s more food out there, waiting to make my day a little better.

The range of food available is much vaster than is instantly apparent. Starting from very inexpensive sources of calories such as pastizzi and all that pastizzi places provide and going all the way to proper restaurants, there isn’t a shortage of food. The middle swathe includes everything from kiosks to kebabs and from burgers to bistros. Quite how I often find myself at a loss remains a mystery I attempt to solve at least twice a week. Today’s column is about the twice this week when I wasn’t stuck for ideas.

I’ll start with Ħamrun Kiosk, purely to keep things chronologically correct. I was out to dinner last week and one of the guys who was putting up with my presence mentioned that he’d been to Ħamrun Kiosk for lunch a few times and that he liked it. Now this man has very particular expectations about food. That’s just a polite way of saying he’s a relatively picky eater. He doesn’t live or work in Ħamrun. I was intrigued.

It turns out that he often drives through, using Ħamrun as a shortcut rather than a destination. Coincidentally, the same applies to me. I never have any reason to go there unless I’m driving through. Knowing about another spot to eat could change this. As I often do, I said I’d try it out provided he joins me. This keeps the pranksters at bay.

I made further enquiries. I wanted a good reason to go to have lunch at a kiosk in a piazza in Ħamrun that was relatively out of my way. He didn’t commit to much. “I like the lamb,” he said, and didn’t look too impressed. That was enough for me and another man at table. Three’s a party.

For once, I was punctual. The nice men weren’t. So I sat at a table and waited, looking around as I did. There are two of those square marquees joined together to form a shaded lunch area that basically consists of long, wooden tables, long, wooden benches, and plenty of pigeons. Two of them squabbled over a crumb at the end of my table while I watched. I almost felt compelled to point out the peaceful solution to them. There were plenty more crumbs for them to choose from.

Three tables were occupied by different groups of people who had somehow managed to combine conversations and discuss the merits of their respective local councils. Three tables actively contributed. Another three, mine included, simply listened.

Finally, the two good men turned up. I’m always humbled in their presence. They dedicate their lives to helping others while I dedicate mine to eating and annoying people. I suppose they need me in their lives to realise how nice they actually are in contrast. We worked our way to the front of the kiosk and ordered food.

The variety of food available is really quite impressive. They have those burgers and hot dogs that are prepared and popped into a microwave. The rest of the food seems quite wholesome though, and there are plenty of baked meat, poultry and pasta dishes to choose from, along with salads and sandwiches and such like. It would be pretty hard, even for a picky eater, to walk away unsatisfied.

We ordered lamb, mainly because it was what had brought me there in the first place. I ordered baked potatoes with mine while the others ordered chips. Within five minutes we paid €6 each and headed to our table to fight pigeons and have lunch. It was pretty decent for a kiosk and the potatoes were surprisingly hard to stop eating. Next time I’m passing through I’ll stop by. This is my kind of street food.

It isn’t my only kind of street food though. I’m often in the mood for something a little different. And this week, this came in the form of a place recommended by a couple of lawyers. We’re really exhausting the ends of the spectrum of humanity here, because I took them with me, too.

La Maltesa
36, Testaferrata Street
Gżira
Tel: 2138 5999

Food: 9/10
Service: 8/10
Value: 8/10

The place is called ‘La Maltesa’ and has the word ‘Caseificio’ tagged on. A cheese factory. As a child I rewrote Dahl’s classic to include a cheese factory instead of a chocolate one. I wrote it in my head though so, mercifully, there is no written record. You’re correctly guessing that I love cheese.

When I got there I realised I was at the right place in the right company. The cheese factory is on Testaferrata Street, where the old, old professions of making cheese and of lawyering fit in perfectly well with the rest of the time-honoured trades.

The place looks great. It is bright and means business, with shelves on the left stacked with lovely foods from Puglia and a bunch and high stools on the left provided a little room for eating there. The counter is filled with cheeses and cold, cured meats. Behind the counter is a scene from Breaking Bad.

Large, stainless steel vats and miles of steel piping are in an immaculately clean room, and cheesemakers busied about the place in white suits and rubber boots. There’s even a slight green hue to the light that emanates from the back doors. I expected to hear the theme song on the radio.

The wrap at La Maltesa in Gżira was the star of the show.

On top of the counter there are rows of beautifully presented sandwiches, rolls, wraps and little savoury pastries. It is one of those displays that make me wish I had a bottomless stomach. Lawyer one ordered three of the little pastries. Lawyer two ordered a wrap. I was trapped. I really wanted everything. I asked the girl behind the counter if they’d come up with a tagliere for me. Of course they would. I’d get to taste a wider selection this way. I also knew I’d need my second lunch within a few hours so I also ordered a panino with porchetta and burrata to take with me. It later turned out to taste even better than it sounds.

The sandwich and the pastries were served immediately while my tagliere was prepared there and then so I quite naturally had to wait for it. In the meantime I sampled the food that was in front of me, knowing that my dish would be dipped into when it turned up. The pastries are made of pizza dough and have bits of speck and cheese inside so they taste like a tiny calzone, only these are made with excellent cheese.

The wrap was the star of the show. It was huge and filled with scamorza, cacio pepato, prosciutto crudo and salami, along with fresh tomatoes and olive oil. The combination sounded quite intense but it worked out beautifully.

When my tagliere arrived, it was well worth the wait. A square slab of slate was stacked full of neatly arranged cheese and meats. Bresaola, salami, prosciutto crudo, caciocavallo, scamorza, cacio pepato and mozzarella lay before me, with a toasted and seasoned bread pocket served alongside. A bottle of olive oil completed the treat. The cheese is truly the result of a lot of love and tradition. It makes the sadly pre-packed stuff in a supermarket appear like it belongs to a different category altogether.

I made my way through half of it before I had to ask to have it packed up. The remainder would be lovely later on. The prices are entirely reasonable, with sandwiches for under a fiver and my dish that could easily have been shared priced at €10.

I added this to my mental list of on-the-way foods and promised myself I’d eventually eat through their entire selection.

Tomorrow morning, as I lie in bed and plan lunch, I’ll have another two perfectly valid candidates added to my mental list.

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