Pet’s plates
The Londoner
Laguna Walk, Smart City,
Kalkara
Tel: 2180 1567
Food: 5/10
Service: 5/10
Ambience: 7/10
Value: 6/10
Overall: 5/10
What on earth am I doing at Smart City, at midday, at the height of summer and on a Sunday of all days? I have been dragged here by the sheer force of a birthday invitation – the birthday of a colleague, and a rather unimaginative one at that.
Needless to say, I am not the biggest fan of this place – the underwhelming fountain, the festa food trucks lining the underwhelming fountain, the lifeless luna park next door. I arrived in what seemed to be a desert ghost town. Until I walked from the empty car park down to the restaurant terrace, I could have been the only person alive.
As a commercial, technological hub, Smart City is of course great. The office blocks are smart and the unobstructed sea view is beautiful. But certain tasteless additions only serve to cheapen this grand space, at times making it appear tacky.
We were having lunch at the recently opened The Londoner. This place describes itself as a gastropub, a bar and grill and a sports bar – rather a lot to contend with. As a rule, I dislike restaurant chains and since this place already has a counterpart in St Julian’s, I wasn’t sure what to expect.
At Smart City, The Londoner offers casual all-day dining, opening every day for breakfast, lunch and dinner and Sunday roasts with a daily happy hour for cocktails and beer pitchers between 3pm and 7pm.
We ate indoors in a space styled in a rather modern, eclectic sort of way with a little nod to the retro. You can also choose to sit outside in the outdoor seating area overlooking the Laguna Walk.
The menu is quintessentially British. In fact, British traditional fare is the only thing you’ll get here, from breakfast fry-ups to bangers and mash, stews, pies and a ploughman’s lunch. If all this is far too heavy for you, there are three salads to choose from. Our order was divided into requests for traditional Sunday roasts, fish and chips and burgers.
Besides the usual beers and ciders one would expect, The Londoner does provide a nice selection of Belgian beers. Most of us had got through the best part of our Duvels and Westmalles when the food arrived – very promptly, with all dishes arriving at once.
The roast, accompanied by all the trimmings, was overdone. The beef had been cooked to death! The indispensable Yorkshire pudding – that gloriously puffed staple of every traditional British Sunday roast – was hardly magnificent. It was instead burnt and lacked flavour, as did the rest of the stodgy dish. The burger was just about decent, edible enough.
The general low standard of grub served at The Londoner leads me to say that this is most definitely not a gastropub
Thankfully, I had chosen the best of the lot. The fish and chips were the real deal – as good as you’d get in any good, honest chippy. The batter wasn’t soggy or greasy but crisp and golden. The fish was meaty. And along with a curry sauce and mushy pea accompaniment, a sprinkling of salt and a dash of malt vinegar, it made for a very tasty, filling lunch. The guy sitting next to me had abandoned his burger and kept eyeing my dish, only to cheekily dig his fork in with gusto whenever I was engaged in conversation.
By dessert, I was happy enough to continue with the British theme and went for the apple and blackberry crumble. Unfortunately, dessert is where the real horrors arose. The same waiter who had served us lunch seemed suddenly irritated by our presence.
He appeared ratty and rushed. When asked if the lemon cheesecake was set or baked, he actually sneered before telling us rather haughtily that it was a “normal one”. There was no chocolate mousse, no banoffee pie, no vanilla ice cream.
The chocolate fondant was nothing more than a blackened chocolate muffin, as dry inside as it was on the outside. I stole a forkful of bland, gummy carrot cake. The lemon cheesecake looked as store bought as the rest of the defrosted, mass-produced desserts. There was no taste differentiation between the awful cheesecake filling and the artificial dollop of cream piped alongside it.
When the irritable waiter turned up with everyone’s dessert, I was given the sensational news that my apple and blackberry crumble had sadly “exploded” and that there were no more portions left! With nothing much available, I fearfully ordered the chocolate fudge cake (what was I thinking?) which turned out to be very stodgy.
This delightful dessert was accompanied by chocolate ice cream of such low quality that I took one bite and lowered my spoon. I had very obviously not eaten my dessert but no questions were asked when the plates were removed – there were no raised eyebrows or shows of concern. So let’s return to that rather longwinded, tripartite self-description:
The Londoner as a gastropub
Coined in the early 1990s, the term ‘gastropub’ immediately trended, starting a movement that spread like wildfire. The term denotes a certain high standard in the quality of food served, with some pubs reaching such heights as to earn themselves Michelin stars. The general low standard of pub grub served at The Londoner leads me to say that this is most definitely not a gastropub. It is precisely because of places like this, proudly awarding themselves full misuse of the term gastropub while serving mediocre food, that the Good Food Guide declared the gastropub to be dead in its 2012 edition.
The Londoner as a bar and grill
There certainly is a bar but the service is p-a-i-n-f-u-l-l-y slow. After lunch we lingered for happy hour and it literally took over half an hour to beckon a waitress and another half an hour before the drinks arrived! The cranky lunchtime waiter had disappeared, leaving things in the hands of two waiters who were seemingly untrained. The service was abysmal. At times there was not a waiter in sight; it was as if the staff had all gone for a siesta. The understaffing was no excuse for the horrific service because the place was practically empty. The staff are hardly working to keep the drinkers happy – which should be one of the key objectives of any pub, gastro or not. Another key objective is hospitality but this was again sorely lacking. As regards the cocktails that eventually did manage to reach us, I must say that my mojito was lovely.
I nearly forgot the grill part. If one burger and a rib eye are all it takes for a restaurant to call itself a grill, then so be it. Not in my world though.
The Londoner as a sports bar
Yes! It is a sports bar! We were reminded of this while we sat and poked our ghastly desserts. A sudden deafening boom shot us up from our seats as all the big screen TVs were switched on at once. Some football match had begun. There are big-screen TVs inside and outside showing live football matches and they do serve alcoholic drinks – if you can wait around long enough to get one – so, yes, The Londoner certainly classifies as a sports bar.
I was utterly disappointed with the entire dining experience. Overall, the food wasn’t good and the service was very much a disservice. Perhaps they have bitten off more than they can chew. As the air conditioner began dripping on to my head in loud, weighty drops, I knew the time had come for me to leave. I shan’t be returning anytime soon.
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