Ed eats

Piccolo Padre
194/5, Main Street,St Julian’s
Tel: 2134 4875

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

When asked about the best restaurant I’ve ever been to, a particular one comes to mind. It was a restaurant that treated every one of my senses with its carefully crafted, Michelin decorated, choreography of flavours and colours and textures from around the world. A sommelier stood by, pouring liquids that, according to his description, ought to be illegal. What we ate bordered on the immoral and the illegal. All of this comes to me in a flash and I dare not share it with whoever’s asking the question.

It is normally asked by those who’d like to treat themselves, or someone into whose garments they’d like to fit later on, to a good meal. So the selection is restricted to restaurants that still serve food and are, ideally, on our shores. So, faced with such an impossible quest, I ask for the list of requisites. And based on this list, I attempt a recommendation.

Strangely, hardly anyone thinks of citing consistency. But if I’m recommending a place, it has to be able to deliver time and time again. Now the most reliable way of measuring consistency if you don’t visit a restaurant often enough is by assessing its staying power. If it’s been around for a while and is thriving, they’ve got what it takes to please many people, many times over.

Yet, this is where boredom starts to creep in. There are so many of the old stalwarts that have had the same menu for three decades that it is actually hard for them to mess it up. And no one has ever asked me for a boring restaurant.

My list of requirements is actually not a tall order. I’m not one who is up for foie gras and truffles on the same night, every night of the week. I love a happy combination of a few ingredients that have been properly sourced. I also have no shame admitting that I can’t afford to eat truffles or foie gras several times a week.

I do like to be treated well, but not fussed over. I’d like a decent view while I’m eating, and I’d like a menu that can keep me guessing or with enough variety to keep things interesting upon repeat visits. Yet, despite the relative humility of my list of asks, it is not easy to find restaurants on our shores that line everything up. If the food is good, it can be quite boring. If it is a little different, then I’m usually sacrificing location or paying more than I’d like to. If I stamp my feet and scream that I want it all, I’m kicked onto the street for causing a ruckus.

A short while ago I was with a few friends and one of them was on the phone with Piccolo Padre, ordering pizza. I’d missed the bit where everyone had placed their order so, without thinking, I just said ‘funghi’, thinking I’d go with something quite simple. When it turned up I was in for a treat. How often do you get Oyster mushrooms on a pizza? And how often are there four types of mushroom on the same one.

For some, it was a little too much. I thought it a treat. And we’ll be back to this notion a little later on. For now, suffice it to say that I wanted to try more of the kitchen that had put this delight onto its menu. And to do so, I’d be in good company. I had one unimpeachable cook, a picky eater, a burger master, a sweet tooth, and an incurable carnivore in tow.

I knew I’d be waiting for a while until everyone made it to the table so I ordered a bottle of Prosecco and a trio of dips to keep me and the better half on the right side of sanity. We were seated on the lovely terrace and the sun hadn’t quite set so we had quite an unbeatable view of the bay to enjoy while everyone else battled the traffic.

Piccolo Padre seemed to have listened to my humble list of requirements and decided they wouldn’t kick me out for wanting it all – they’d simply deliver

Let’s get the elephant that’s sitting quietly in the corner into the conversation now. There was a situation with the balcony a while ago, one that could have ended in tragedy. Now that the terrace is open again, it is probably the safest place to be. One does not reopen until an army of engineers has descended upon the place, overseen repairs, and certified it to be absolutely and undeniably safe. And it’s with this certainty that I enjoyed the terrace that evening.

A basket of fresh bread, bread sticks, and a totally delightful bigilla were at our table within minutes and, soon after, our dips joined the fray. They’re served with poppadum and a variety of focaccia and I tucked into the pea and curry, with crispy bacon on top first. It seemed to be the one happiest to go with the poppadum while the salmon and dill and the Gorgonzola and saffron were better matched by the focaccia.

By the time we were all seated, I’d gone through the menu a few times. It is a refreshing new take on the formula that worked so well for Piccolo Padre for so many years. Apart from an interesting take on the capricciosa, swapping canned artichoke hearts for carciofi alla Romana, the pizza section is a wonderfully varied departure from what we’ve come to expect. I said I’d get back to the pizzas and here I am, fulfilling that promise. While there might not be the exact same pizzas we’re used to, the chefs have put together a novel take on practically everything.

It might take a little courage to try something new but if you want boredom, you have plenty of it elsewhere. Gone are they days when it pays to attempt to please everyone. The menu retains just enough familiarity and then departs into the Piccolo Padre character. There’s a beef burger and then there’s one with lamb and ginger. There’s pasta with lamb ragout and Middle Eastern spices, they’ve bothered making a variety of their own sausages, and they’ve kept traditional Maltese dishes there for good measure.

I was sold on the idea of a pizza Carbonara and it was served, as I’d expected without tomato sauce. Swapping pecorino for Parmesan is a clever move, because the pizza would otherwise be unbearably salty. An egg is placed right at the centre and the cooking time is such that allows the yolk to remain slightly runny. Proper guanciale is used for its incomparable flavour and red onion finishes the dish with a zesty tang. I hoped no one would be curious because I wasn’t prepared to sacrifice a bite of this gem.

Luckily, everyone was focused on the plate in front of them. The man I referred to as an unimpeachable cook had ordered the traditionally fried rabbit, partly, I suspected, to test the kitchen. He seemed surprised at how well it had been prepared, slightly crisp on the outside, tender inside, and traditionally seasoned. The burger master had a weird look on his face and this made me apprehensive. I asked about it and he said he hadn’t expected it to be so perfect. It was quite the tower, with a thick beef patty and a lightly grilled bun, served with a little basked of fries on the side.

The carnivorous better half was clearly enjoying the lamb and ginger burger because she was ignoring my hinting at a request to taste it. Finally, she caved and sliced a sliver for me to taste. Lamb can be a little too rich and unctuous to eat as a minced patty but the sharp and acidic ginger formed the perfect counterpart. The picky eater and the sweet tooth had both gone for the salmon and avocado salad and this received mixed reviews. It was quite attractively served, with the salmon and avocado in a neat mound atop a salad of rucola and chard leaves, with toasted almond on top for texture and flavour. The sweet tooth couldn’t fault it while the picky eater said it was a little bland.

I’d eaten my fill, having tasted all the food at table apart from devouring my own, so I skipped dessert and watched while a couple of Williams pear pies were devoured with intensity.

We paid €25 each for the meal. This included the bottle of Prosecco as well as a couple of bottles of wine. The wine list is probably the weakest link here but I guess it is made to match the informality of the food. If it’s a comprehensive wine list you’re after, you’d be eating at Barracuda upstairs.

Piccolo Padre seemed to have listened to my humble list of requirements and decided they wouldn’t kick me out for wanting it all – they’d simply deliver. They’ve got the menu and a kitchen that can quite capably prepare it, they’ve got the view, and they’ve priced the whole experience to match.

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