Ed Eats

Kuya Asian Pub
2, Ross Street
St Julian’s
Tel: 9924 6906

Food: 8/10
Service: 7/10
Ambience: 7/10
Value: 8/10
Overall: 7.5/10

Last week I wrote about street food and the particular variety of this kind of offering in Ta’ Xbiex. As part of the response to the published column, a friend got in touch to ask if I’d tried Kuya’s pub in St Julian’s. To me, Kuya is a food truck. Having been there a few times I have developed a familiarity for their food and their system and I struggled to think of the lovechild between Kuya and a pub. The image just didn’t quite fit.

I’d have to give it a try. I asked where I could find the pub, was given a specific set of instructions and drove around in circles until I gave up. Then I parked about a mile away from the location that I’d been guided to and decided to walk towards the general direction. On my way I got distracted.

There’s this shiny, new place at the top of the hill that leads up to Paceville from Spinola. It’s one of those houses with a terrace, across the road from the spectacularly poorly utilised Palazzo Spinola.

Whoever thought that the palatial splendour of this historical and architectural gem was perfectly suited to some government office or another shouldn’t be entrusted with this sort of decision again.

Anyhow, the house across the road from this palace was recently spruced up, turned into a tidy little cocktail bar and called ‘Sergio’s staircase’. Now that Sergio has a staircase he can call his very own, he’s decided to add the terrace, the garden and the upstairs terrace into a bar. There’s also a table of aperitivo-style food for patrons to nibble from with an effective buffet-style service.

This frees the service staff from the need to serve food and they can concentrate on the drinks. There’s an impressive list of cocktails but no wine menu so far, so I’d stick with the cocktails until they sort this out.

We spent the evening feeling like tourists. The location is right in the centre of the pedestrian traffic that flows up and down from the bay and patrons around me spoke all languages you can imagine with the exception of English or Maltese. By the time we’d finished our drinks and nibbles we were pretty much sorted for the evening, so I thought I’d give Kuya a shot some other time.

However, fortified by a happier stomach than I’d arrived with, I thought I’d hunt around for Kuya on foot. It is quite well hidden. There’s that roundabout that has bottle shops on each corner and a road that leads to Portomaso. As you head down this artery, there are a number of little shops selling stationery, sunglasses and ice creams, all struggling to keep their façade visible beneath the scaffolding that envelopes the building.

Carefully concealed within this mess is a little table from which a young lady sells fruit juices. She stands inside a tiny doorway that leads to a staircase down into the belly of the building. And at the end of this staircase is Kuya Asian Pub.

Overjoyed with my discovery, I almost felt like tumbling down the stairs like Alice into a rabbit hole. But then I’d have a lot of explaining to do once I made it to the bottom so I headed home, planning a visit to Kuya now that I was privy to the arcane knowledge of its whereabouts.

The very next day I was on the hunt for an early dinner so I headed to Kuya without much deliberation, reaching the Asian Pub at around half past seven. I made my way down and found a pretty neat little place that looks more like a restaurant than a pub. There’s even a little courtyard for smokers and a few seats at bar.

I could somehow picture the place turning into a more raucous version of itself once the last dish had been served. The pub element is present. It’s just waiting to be unleashed

The decor is simple, almost too functional, and I bet there are more plans in store in this department. The men behind the food truck decorated it quite cheerfully so I sort of expected that to carry through. Perhaps this edition of Kuya is a bit more grown-up.

I walked to the bar and spoke to the man there, expecting him to invite us to take any table in the house.

Well, turns out they were fully booked. He must have seen my disappointment because he pointed at a table that wouldn’t be occupied for another hour and let us have it.

The menu is on the wall, cheerfully handwritten on to a blackboard in coloured chalk. There are seven starters and five main courses that, according to the man who served us, change frequently. Pricing is simple: €4 for a starter and €7 for a main course. If the food’s any good, I wasn’t surprised that the place was already booked for the night.

I decided I’d try and keep the time we spent there to a minimum. Kuya had been generous with their table and I wasn’t about to put them in a fix. I ordered six of the seven starters, figuring that we’d taste quite a variety of food in one course. This would allow us a quick getaway.

We ordered a couple of bottle of Japanese beer and settled in. The music in the background was that of a carefully curated mix of easy electronic music and it sounded good.

I could somehow picture the place turning into a more raucous version of itself once the last dish had been served. The pub element is present. It’s just waiting to be unleashed.

Our food was served as it was prepared, so we had a steady stream of dishes with just the right gap between each couple of items. We started with a cool and refreshing Wakame salad dressed with sesame oil and alongside a little bamboo steamer filled with steamed pork buns, and a small bowl of Thai Soy sauce to dip the buns in.

The buns were delicate and the sauce intense so you get to suit your preference for the amount of savoury goodness you’d like to add. The food is very definitely Kuya, somehow turned up a notch.

There was none of this restraint with the grilled dumplings. They’re steeped in a rich Teryaki and come at you in no uncertain terms. I didn’t quite like having to share them but I hatched a little plan. This would be my golden ticket, my bonus round at the end, should we have enough time left and enough room to fit them in.

Next up were the grilled baby calamari in Kuya’s own sauce and they snuggled up to the dry Asahi beer I was drinking like they were old friends. Whatever’s in that sauce must have been inspired by a sip of super-dry beer. Onwards we went to the grilled prawn, again served with Thai Soy, then the Tori Karaage chicken, served with a flourish and a knowing wink.

The man who was taking care of us was efficient and hurried along to make sure the other tables, mostly filled by this time, were taken care of too. He’s not the talkative type so a little conspiratorial wink from him meant something.

The chicken is starched and dry fried so it’s crisp and light, just like this Japanese peculiarity is meant to be. The sauce they’re served with is fragrant, perfumed almost. At €4, who in their right mind orders chicken nuggets?

I took a quick look at my watch and realised I’d have time for another round of grilled dumplings, justified to myself by calling it dessert. And when I was done, I asked for the bill and dashed, leaving our table to its rightful owners.

We paid just over €30 for the lot and this wouldn’t have been any different if we’d gone for a two-course option. Somehow, I don’t think the guys at Kuya could bother with this formality though.

They’ve taken the easy-going appeal of the food truck and bottled it into the more conveniently-parked pub format, only with a more ambitious kitchen. I’m glad it’s well hidden. I want it to be easy for me to eat the next half of the menu, possibly in one sitting.

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