Pet’s plates

Umami
20, Saqqajja Hill,
Rabat
Tel: 2713 4134

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

Friday night in Rabat. And Saqqajja Hill has been gradually returning to life – and I do mean in ways other than sweaty, mile-long queues for Tattingers.

The hill has become more upmarket with the opening or revamping of several restaurants, wine bars and an art gallery. Relatively new to the scene is Umami. The name promises great things.

The Japanese word refers to the recently recognised (by the Western world that is) savoury fifth taste. Consequently, as I sauntered down Saqqajja Hill’s steps with a friend to the restaurant, I inevitably found myself envisioning explosive taste, bold flavour... and overall deliciousness.

At Umami one can choose to sit outside on the steps for al fresco dining or inside, on the ground floor or first floor. We chose the latter, walking right past the immaculate open kitchen and saluted by the two smiling chefs, as we trudged up the staircase. Once upstairs, we immediately eyed the table overlooking the little wrought iron balcony. The view was simply breathtaking, down through Racecourse Street – site of the historic and colourful donkey and horse races of Mnarja – through the valley, ending in a horizon of Tal-Virtù chapel and the turrets of Palazzo tal-Virtù. The decor is simple, understated and elegant and I was happy to soak it all in while eagerly waiting to be handed a menu.

The maître d’-cum-sommelier was cordial, engaging and efficient. He definitely added to the fine-dining charm of the place, pulling out our chairs, whipping out linen napkins, draping them on to our laps and discussing the wine list with expertise.

He spoke happily but did not linger for longer than necessary. It is such a bother when waiters or chefs enter into conversation with you, only to find that 10 minutes into something close to a monologue they have practically invited themselves to dine with you!

The menu was a joy to behold – concise, as most good menus are, and with a variety of specials that change daily. The wine list offered an excellent selection of wines from moderate to more expensively priced bottles. We chose a light Sicilian red to accompany the meal.

To whet our appetites, the doting maître d’ soon arrived with piping hot bread and a home-made butter infused with aged black garlic and sage, dotted with edible flowers. It was pure heaven and set the tone for the quality of the food to come.

What started as the spreading of polite little dollops of butter soon turned into a race to wipe the slate platter clean. For first course, I kicked off with egg pappardelle with rabbit ragout and thinly sliced pan-friend rabbit livers.

It was impeccable and I was delighted to have been given a generous portion. My fellow diner had chosen a twist on the typical carbonara – home-made tortelloni with sheep’s ricotta, guanciale and pecorino which cut open to reveal a gorgeous egg yolk.

The tortelloni were almost as delicious as the pappardelle but sadly arrived slightly cold. As dusk fell it was particularly pleasant to sit back and digest between courses and gaze upon the old capital’s suburb.

Such a beautiful corner of Malta deserves to boast restaurants of a certain calibre and Umami undoubtedly has a good thing going - a little fine tuning is all that’s required

On this summer night all windows and balcony doors had been left wide open. This allowed us to be entertained courtesy of one of the neighbouring restaurants who had a man serenading the entire Saqqajja Hill with his medley of Italian favourites. The music and the occasional whiff of exhaust as the odd bus laboured its way up the hill wafted up to us.

The main course arrived and two beautifully-plated dishes were served to us by one of the chefs who enthusiastically (and very unpretentiously) explained all the components of each plate before allowing us to tuck in.

I had opted for one of the specials – succulent duck breast cooked to tender perfection with notes of beetroot and truffle, nestled on a bed of roasted fennel. It was a fabulous dish and once again the chefs had truly excelled.

Even the sides were delicious. My fellow diner had local grouper with beautifully chargrilled octopus, caramelised fennel and fennel purée. I stole a few forkfuls – the octopus was great, the grouper, however, was slightly dry and the dish in its entirety was nowhere close to being as excellent as the duck.

A palate cleanser was brought over by the same affable chef – a divine, very Heston-Blumenthalesque strawberry and prickly pear blob that quite literally burst in our mouths. From something as simple as that first bite of bread smothered with that butter we had eagerly awaited every impending course.

And nothing disappointed until the dessert. The friend’s chocolate mousse was altogether far too bitter to be enjoyed. Most of it remained on the plate. The yoghurt sponge cake with strawberries and honey ice cream was good but rather ordinary compared to my previous fare. I say mine because had I ordered the lukewarm tortelloni and not-so-exciting grouper, I would probably have been far less impressed with this restaurant.

Overall, Umami had still left a very positive impact on us. It is, of course, not the cheapest of places but it is what you’d expect for such refined food, service and ambience. The chef duo prepare classic dishes with technical finesse, flair and that all-important element of surprise.

The result is a true showcase of Maltese gastronomic talent. It is lovely to see Mdina and its environs pulling up its culinary socks. Such a beautiful corner of Malta deserves to boast restaurants of a certain calibre and Umami undoubtedly has a good thing going – a little fine-tuning is all that’s required. We left satisfied. With a smile planted firmly on our faces, we waved goodbye to the chefs as we made our way back down the stairs. It had been an utterly pleasant, memorable night.