Ed eats

Margaret Island
71, The Strand,
Sliema
Tel: 2748 3280

Food: 6/10
Location: 6/10
Service: 5/10
Value: 7/10
Overall: 6/10

When I’m asked about a country I’ve visited, I tend to rate it by its ability to feed me, and then go on to mention all the other factors that make a place worth visiting or avoiding. If I’ve been to several regions or cities within that country, then I can break things down even further.

Food is such a basic necessity that it is entirely universal. When treated functionally, it is dreadfully boring but when pride and history and tradition find their way into the pot, there’s plenty more to enjoy and to talk about. This goes beyond ingredients and recipes and methods. Even the way a country chooses to structure its meals tells plenty about the people that live there.

If the food isn’t memorable, I tend to forget most of my visit and find no incentive to return. Luckily, the reverse happens, and I find myself returning to a destination in an attempt to consume its entire menu. Life is too short for me to ever achieve this goal but I’m happy to die trying.

Now it is entirely possible to visit a culinary goldmine and walk away disappointed, especially if all you’ve done is fall prey to the tourist traps. I was in Barcelona with an acquaintance not too long ago and he complained that he hadn’t managed a good meal in three days. He’d walked up and down a terribly touristic thoroughfare and only ate at restaurants that had the equivalent of a gastronomical prostitute outside, soliciting diners with menus in hand and equipped with stock greeting phrases in seven languages.

I explained that he deserved worse than poor meals. He deserved the diseases that are caught by philistines such as himself, with such low esteem for organs as precious as his mouth and his stomach. I’m not sure this sat well with him but a man deserves to know the truth, no matter how painful.

So, unless you’re lucky enough to know someone who lives in the city and has a modicum of self-respect, research food in advance and learn to spot the traps from a mile away. It was the latter approach that I had to take when visiting Budapest since I knew no one who lived there. But I was visiting in the company of two shameless gourmands so I knew we’d manage a few good meals.

Well, we managed one really good meal. And for the rest of our stay we were fed but not treated, with our research sending us down wild goose chases and putting us in touch with undeserved Michelin stars. There was plenty of potential, we decided, and vowed to return only in the company of a local.

We haven’t got around to doing so yet but in the meantime it appears that Hungarian food has come to us, at least in the form of a new eatery in Sliema. It’s in that convenient part of The Strand that’s between Sliema and Gżira so close enough to both without the mayhem. The restaurant takes on the long-and-narrow configuration that the building allows and it’s been done up quite tidily, complete with chairs that want to be an Eames plastic armchair when they grow up.

There’s plenty to love and there’s plenty that leaves me unaffected... but my experience is limited so I guess I’ll have to revisit

In this period that’s been taken over by TV screens showing an endless number of matches throughout the day and night, they’ve made do with just one. So if you’re really keen on watching the sport while you stuff your face you can opt for a table all the way inside but anyone who is actually out for a meal can occupy any other spot in the large dining area, or even the terrace outside, without distraction.

Other than that, the place is quite soulless, with a bizarre selection of music played at a low level to help mask the clink of crockery and cutlery. There’s little, other than a selection of their own fruit brandies, to indicate that this is indeed a Hungarian restaurant.

The man who greeted us was friendly enough and he took our order for drinks, giving us time to peruse the menus. As is fitting, the food is all Hungarian, with clear descriptions of each item so there’s no room for confusion. I was after a goulash but this is the kind of dish you eat if you’re going for a single course – it is too large to be a starter and, according to the man who took our orders, would also be too much to handle if it were to follow a starter.

I appreciated his efforts at helping us understand portion sizes and ingredients. He knew the food well and made every effort to steer us in the direction of the dishes he recommended. So much that I found myself apologising for not ordering the starter he’d recommended and actually changed the main course I’d made my mind upon to choose the main he’d insisted upon. Looking back, I should have been more decisive but the beta male in me, if there is such a thing, finds that I’m only actually forceful in retrospect.

His wine recommendations were annoyingly at the more expensive end of the spectrum. I find this approach awkward because it has the tendency to embarrass patrons. What I do like is that all the wine on the menu is Hungarian and we picked a relatively inexpensive Merlot.

Our starters were served surprisingly quickly and were accompanied by a bowl of delicious, fresh bread. The broth with noodles has all the makings of that comforting dish you’d want on a winter’s night. It is a clear and savoury broth with thick-cut carrots, tiny bits of pasta, lean chicken, and peas. It is served piping hot and, when it cooled to a temperature at which it could be enjoyed, did the trick.

The ratatouille is a pared back version of the Provençal original, with chopped onion, tomato, bell pepper, and smoked sausage. The smoky flavour permeates the dish and gives it a lovely aroma, turning a vegetable-based side-dish into quite a flavourful starter.

Our main courses took a little longer to serve and I find this reassuring. When they made it, both dishes were quite attractively presented, with attention paid to plating so colour and arrangement of ingredients formed a pleasant picture.

The duck confit felt a little more like a slow-roast than a leg that had been cooked in salted fat and this gave the skin a lovely, crisp texture. The flesh, however, was nowhere near as tender as one would expect of a confit. It was seasoned quite well though and served with a lovely mashed potato that had been covered with a layer of pickled red cabbage and chopped fig. This was vastly more interesting than the protagonist of the plate and I enjoyed the way the trifecta came together to provide contrasting textures and flavours.

The ‘Budapest style’ steak was an over-engineered approach to a pretty decent wedge of grilled fillet. Half the steak is covered with a vastly overcooked piece of duck liver in some form of sauce while the other half is covered with mashed peas. It is all served on top of more ratatouille and surrounded by skin-on potato wedges. When I’d removed all the stuff on top of the steak, I actually got to enjoy it and I also made quick work of the delicious potatoes. I left the ratatouille because there’s only so much of it I can handle in one night.

Having tasted all four dishes and finished most of the two I’d been allocated I had no room for dessert so I asked for the bill. Before it arrived, our man presented us with two shot glasses filled with what I presumed to be Pálinka, the fruit brandy that’s distilled in Hungary. Luckily, the better half doesn’t like it so I got to have both shots of this excellent distillate.

We paid just under €80 for the meal, a figure I felt was on the high side for what we’d been served. It is entirely possible to get by with less. If you’re happy to have a goulash, it is very well priced and you could easily walk out with a full belly for under €20. If there’s a shot of Pálinka to go with it, you’ve really struck a bargain.

In the end I realised I’m still on the fence with Hungarian food. There’s plenty to love and there’s plenty that leaves me unaffected. But my experience is limited so I guess I’ll have to revisit, both the restaurant and the country, before I make up my mind. And I relish the prospect of a journey of gastronomic discovery.

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