Ed eats

Impasta
7, Dobbie Street,
Paceville
Tel: 7952 7586

Food: 8/10  
Service: 5/10
Ambiance: 6/10
Value: 7/10
Overall: 6/10

Last week there was something of a funeral to the second incarnation of the legendary ‘Coconut Grove’. Being a nation that thinks names are nothing more than a guideline, it was more commonly known quite simply as ‘Coconut’. Or ‘Il-Coconut’.

Just like the bar that was called ‘The Alley’ was more commonly known by its patrons as ‘L-Alleys’. Let’s add an article and pluralise the name for good measure.

I’m ancient enough to remember the first such bash, back when Coconut Grove took up the entire space that is now occupied by Burger King. It was quite a spectacular way of clearing out the building and all the alcohol, fixtures, and fittings it contained.

I made an attempt to attend the one that happened last Saturday but didn’t quite make it. By the time I got there, after an afternoon of consuming several alcoholic drinks, I couldn’t face the prospect of pushing through a thousand sweaty people to buy one final glass of spirit.

So I walked away from the heaving crowd, dotted as it was with leather jackets and those hopeful ponytails that cling around the edges of the scalp of the ageing rocker. Just like the group of Coconut Grove exes, I swished about Paceville in a depressing vinaigrette of misplaced nostalgia and incomprehension.

As I did so, I tried to count the number of bars and clubs that have been replaced by Gentlemen’s clubs and ran out of fingers on both hands before I gave up.

I’ve often thought, or hoped, that some form of ethereal social justice would cause Paceville to implode and simply cease to exist. Now I realize that this has happened, and all that is left are its remains for all of us to see, like a monument we can eternally dread.

At least, there’s plenty of food to be had. While you wouldn’t want to eat most of it, there are some options that range from the acceptable to the downright appealing. The stalwarts like The Avenue and Ir-Rokna remain.

Newer offerings like Il Pirata and New York Best keep churning out food and service that work wonders if you’re prepared to put up with being in the area to consume them.

Club Sushi remains the only place I can think of that serves fantastic Korean food and perfectly acceptable sushi. Quite surprisingly, the list can go on for a short while. So all is not lost for Paceville, unless you’re seeking entertainment, that is.

One of the places I have visited a couple of times is a pasta bar called, rather cleverly, Impasta. It’s not the kind of place I’d visit often but it fills in a particular need quite neatly.

There’s a point in time when you feel like a decent plate of pasta, when you want it quickly and without frills, and when you’re not up for the formality of a night at a restaurant. It is the closest it gets to fast food in many ways, even if we don’t normally consider pasta to fit the category.

That’s because we’re used to eating much more dry pasta than fresh pasta. If you’ve ever made your own, and I suggest you give it a shot, you’ll be surprised at how easy it is and how ridiculously quickly it cooks. Sure, you’ll make a mess of the kitchen, but you can add it to your list of skills with very little effort.

Impasta serves fresh pasta – exclusively so as far as I can tell – and offer a wide variety of pasta styles. Not only do you get the different shapes, they also serve pasta made from several alternatives to wheat such as Kamut and hemp.

Hemp, maligned for all the wrong reasons, makes a wonderfully nutty and flavoursome dough out of which pasta can be cut or extruded. Kamut is great for those who’d like to avoid wheat for whatever reason but insist on pasta that doesn’t dissolve in boiling water.

It is simply a different pasta with joys of its own and ought to be sampled and enjoyed as an ingredient in its own right

The restaurant is what I call a half service outfit. You walk in and have a look at the menu to pick a sauce. You then pick a variety of pasta from the bar and place your order at the till.

The front of house team then only has to deal with the delivery. This is great because it expedites matters – by the time you’re seated your order is in the kitchen and being prepared – and this is the chief benefit of a pasta bar.

The notion of a pasta bar is quite novel to our islands and I have to admit that I was first drawn to Impasta by the novelty. I returned because the pasta was quite lovely. My first foray had me eating the dark-coloured hemp pasta with an amatriciana sauce and it was an unusual and delightful experience.

The pasta doesn’t actually cook through, as fresh pasta or pastaluovo can do, and the pasta has enough character to hold its own, even in the presence of the bold flavours of the famous sauce.

That time, and a couple of times after that, we were amongst the only patrons and enjoyed a rapid service. The last time I visited was a different story. The outside dining terrace was packed solid so we resorted to a table inside the restaurant. It is done up in a cheerful and functional way, with splashes of colour on the wall to liven the place up.

The menu is split into two. Starters, salads, and sauces are written onto a blackboard on the wall. The other half is a pasta display that’s clearly labelled. You naturally need to use both halves to order a complete dish.

I was there for a quick Carbonara and opted for fresh spaghetti to carry it. We didn’t have much time for dinner that evening so I was banking on their serving model and restricted menu for a quick getaway. The better half picked a Kamut pasta served with pesto. We added an inexpensive bottle of red wine and took our seats.

Within minutes, one of the outside tables was vacated and we asked to change tables. The girl who saw to this was quick to jump to our aid, clearing up the table in a jiffy and leading us to our new table. Our wine was served quite quickly as well.

As is fitting for rapid service, the bottle was opened before it reached our table and there was no attempt to pour a glass. This is a pasta bar after all and one is there for rapid service, expecting to do away with niceties in favour of a quick meal that’s unencumbered by the trappings of tradition.

When we were half way through our bottle of wine I looked at my watch. Almost half an hour had passed and there was no food on the table. I poured another couple of glasses and got back to our chat, trying to drown the grumbling of my stomach with the sound of wine gurgling its way down my throat.

Just over three quarters of an hour after we’d ordered, our pasta was served. The spaghetti are served in a towering cone, with plenty of creamy sauce clinging to it and crisp bits of fried guanciale throughout.

I’m afraid there is no substitute for guanciale, egg, and pecorino in a Carbonara, and this was the real deal. It is such a simple dish that, when well executed, creates an intensely savoury and creamy mouthful, with the crunch of seasoned and cured meat for a choral finale.

The pesto was just as lovely, with heaps of fresh basil and the crunch of pine nuts making every mouthful feel like you’ve bit into the essence of an Italian summer. Long gone are my days of scepticism about Kamut and spelt-based pasta.

It is useless trying to compare them to pasta based on semolina and durum wheat. It is simply a different pasta, with joys of its own, and ought to be sampled and enjoyed as an ingredient in its own right.

We paid €35 for the meal which is pretty decent for two dishes and a bottle of wine. You’re paying over €10 for a plate of pasta which I suppose, considering the premium that the location surely costs them, is fair.

They’re hiring as well, as a sign on the door says. Most likely to cope with the additional demand. I hope that the new recruits restore the rate of service to what it once was because I do want to return but I’m not prepared to put up with the wait.

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