Ed eats
Bebirgu
11, Misraħ ir-Rebħa
Vittoriosa
Tel: 7722 0077
Food: 6/10
Service: 7/10
Ambience: 7/10
Value: 7/10
Overall: 7/10
I’m glad this week came to a close. It was fraught with culinary heartache. A couple of years of tear-jerkingly good hamburgers at Ryan’s Pub came to an end, causing me to seek solace elsewhere. I resorted to a couple of sources of comfort food to make up for the lack of Ryan’s burger and they both let me down.
It looks like Thai lunchtime treats at Good Thaimes in Gżira are now limited to a couple of days a week so we have little option but to turn up for dinner. I also paid a visit to Fatayer, the lovely guys who make delicious little Syrian pastries and they weren’t there at lunchtime. If they were within earshot they’d have heard the sad creak my heart made as it broke.
I wound up at HiM that day, the mozzarella place on Gżira seafront, and was thrilled with the addition of pizza to their menu and appalled at the service.
The first time I visited I must have been lucky because every other time since was a battle to get noticed and a struggle to feel like I’m actually welcome there. With such an intriguing alternative just up the road, I wonder why I even bother.
Making up for this storm in a first-world teacup was Sale e Pepe at Portomaso, turning what was destined to be a chaotic meal for 15 into a feast fit for royalty. It is one of those restaurants that consistently turns up fantastic quality, even if the service could do with some more scripting.
We were comfortable with the familiarity and thrilled with the quality of the food so we couldn’t complain. The tagliata, in particular, is worth booking a table for. There somehow remains a disarming disconnection between the informality of the decor and the obsessive attention to food quality so every time I visit I find myself surprised. If this is what they’re depending on, it is working perfectly.
All this left me needing a wildcard, something slightly unusual and that I was curious about. I’d heard of a Belgian chef taking over the restaurant at a band club in Vittoriosa and this sounded unlikely enough for me. Off I went for an early evening drive to Vittoriosa, parked just off the main square and walked around a little until it was time for dinner.
I must have looked like quite the tourist, camera in hand and snapping away at whatever took my fancy, because a few men sitting at one of the tables of a bar next door to the band club had an entire conversation about me, presuming I couldn’t understand Maltese.
The atmosphere in here is quite tranquil and patrons were a mix of those who’d turned up for a beer and chat and others who were evidently there for the Belgian food and beers
They complained about tourists who seemed to care about taking photos at a frequency that they decided they were uncomfortable with. What did tourists do with all these photos anyway? And wasn’t it against some law to take photos in public spaces? And how about the irritating click of the shutter? I suppose that if I were to walk around handing piles of cash to strangers they would find a good reason to complain about it.
Luckily, the young man who welcomed us to the San Lawrenz band club seemed quite happy to see us. He offered us a table in the courtyard and we settled in. The atmosphere in here is quite tranquil and patrons were a mix of those who’d turned up for a beer and chat and others who were evidently there for the Belgian food and beers.
Tasteful jazz playing in the background adds a welcome touch to the experience.
The inside dining area, the open kitchen and the bar have been recently and tastefully done up. They somehow work well with the rest of the band club accoutrements and haven’t really taken over so, while the restaurant feels like a restaurant, there’s enough to keep the San Lawrenz theme running through the building.
The menus are not too extensive, with a page of inexpensive snacks, a couple of burgers, platters to share and a handful of starters and main courses. I was eyeing the typically Belgian dishes but couldn’t figure out what to start with. My only option was the chicken vol-au- vent.
I’d hardly ever order this but it is described as a Belgian classic and I took the plunge. Rather embarrassingly, the better half had decided on the prawn cocktail to start with. I started with a look of mild surprise, then actually asked whether she realised she’d be getting defrosted shrimp.
She was resolute and I’m hardly one to argue with anyone’s food choices. I’d sneak a McD cheeseburger into my day if I thought it made sense. For main course I couldn’t decide between the Belgian veal stew and the pot of mussels. Luckily, neither could the prawn-cocktail eater so we ordered both. The wine menu is surprisingly inexpensive and I spotted a Sancerre for under €15.
This made the choice of wine obligatory but I still wanted a Belgian beer. Belgian monks have been making the precious liquids for centuries and I wouldn’t risk their wrath should I walk out of there without sampling their tipple. I picked a blonde in the form of a Westmalle Tripel and set about planning my meal around these conflicting liquids.
We sat next to a door that led to a cellar and there was this device just within the door that sprayed an intensely scented air freshener. Every 10 minutes we were liberally doused with an overpowering smell that made it impossible to smell anything we were eating or drinking. I suppose we should have changed tables but decided to put up with it.
Our starters took a while and were served together by the young man who had taken our order. My vol-au-vent was served with plenty of filling that spilled out and covered most of the plate. The sauce is thickened and tastes almost like a commercial stock so provided little joy. The pastry itself was just as unremarkable. What saved the dish was the addition of red peppercorns and a very fresh salad on the side.
There were no surprises with the prawn cocktail. It followed the typical shrimp-in-a-cocktail-glass formula and the happy addition of a spicy sauce that was fine for me but too spicy for the better half. Despite the protests she finished the entire portion. There were more red peppercorns here and I wasn’t about to complain. I still hadn’t had enough of the lovely aromatic berry.
We waited a little less for our main courses. The veal stew, described as ‘Eddy’s stew cooked by chef Ed’ in the menu, is served in a neat little bucket with chips on the side in their own cone made of ceramic. More red peppercorns were sprinkled on top and this time I was somehow expecting them.
The stew is thick and rich and well salted with a stock so intense that it was hard to tell that the meat was actually veal. Somehow, however, this dish suited to a cold winter’s day worked well with the strong beer that I’d kept for the occasion.
The mussel pot consists of a kilogram of mussels served in a broth based on white wine. I doubt the mussels were fresh to begin with but they were cooked to the perfect temperature and remained quite juicy.
The broth is not as salty as I’m used to it and, especially after the relative assault that the stew had provided, tasted quite dilute. Having said that, we really wished they’d served some fresh bread with our meal. It would have been a welcome addition to both the stew and the mussels.
We paid €30 each, a pretty decent amount to pay for two courses, a bottle of wine and a speciality beer. At the end of the meal, the chef came round to talk to us and complimented our choice of wine. He explained that he does all he can to keep wine prices within reasonable levels and was pleased we’d picked his favourite. He’s evidently put plenty of effort into bringing his cuisine to the lovely Vittoriosa square and wins on bravery and great taste in decor and music.
Keeping pretty decent food to a very decent price is also a feather in his cap. I walked out feeling like some of the heartache of the week had waned. And I’m pretty sure that the beer had quite a lot to say for this as well.
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