Ed eats

Waterbiscuit
St George’s Bay
St Julian’s
Tel: 2376 2225

Food: 8/10
Service: 9/10
Ambience: 8/10
Value: 7/10
Overall: 8/10

I seem to be on a consistent path of being proved wrong. It doesn’t bother me. I’m normally pleased to see the error in my ways because it means my bleak outlook has once again tuned itself to a couple of notches below the rest of the world’s actual level of misery.

Meanwhile, I’ve been complaining about gastronomic boredom to anyone who wouldn’t listen. It seemed like I’ve been touring the nation only to find the exact same menu everywhere.

I appreciate that the country is too small to have a bunch of highly-specialised restaurants that cater to the unusual whims of a very small portion of the population. Anyone who tries to veer on the obscenely fancy will go out of business in two swishes of an angry cat’s tail.

I just want a slight variation on the ordinary. And I want decent service. My recent trip to Peperoncino was an eye-opener because I realised that I was surprised at good service. Had the general level of service been decent around the country, I’d be surprised when I’m treated badly. Unfortunately, the opposite is true.

Trying to cure this boredom I even dashed over to Pane e Olio last week, where I was certain the chef would lift my spirits with some of his magic. He did so, but I still was at a loss for somewhere to review. Then I happened to come across a little online snippet that claimed that Waterbiscuit is the top restaurant on TripAdvisor.

I was horrified that anyone would mention that. Most TripAdvisor reviews are written by tourists who spend their week in Malta confined to the cheaper pubs in Buġibba. What could they possibly know about food?

I had spotted the place and dismissed it as the lobby bar of the Intercontinental hotel. Yet something inside me forced me to defy my instincts and give it a try.

I was certain the experience would be disappointing. I prepared myself for overpriced sandwiches, with seven potato crisps in a bowl to justify an extortionate price tag. I was betting there would be some Delicata plonk by the glass at a fiver a pop. Yet something kept pushing me that way.

When we arrived, a girl walked up to us and offered a table for two, asking whether we’d rather sit outside or inside. The sticky heat outside made this decision quite easy. She then asked if we’d prefer dinner or were just out for a drink. I was hoping for dinner and said so. She suggested we follow her upstairs to a quieter dining area.

I’d been treated very well, and was very happy to be proved wrong

The change of scene is dramatic. Out of the St Julian’s madness we were whisked, and into a very neatly designed dining area. The baton was handed to the maître d’ upstairs, who saw to our seating, menus and drinks.

I recognised the man. He’d treated us to his fine art before. Once at Carissa and a good number of times at Paranga. I knew we were in for an extremely pleasant experience.

This is a man who has understood that service is an art, and he puts every ounce of effort into practising his art so that it looks effortless. I knew what to expect from here on in terms of service, and settled in for a very pleasant evening.

The menus were something of a welcome surprise as well. Chicken liver parfait with pickled apples and brioche? Well, yes please. Veal carpaccio with truffle dressing and pecorino shavings? But of course!

And that’s just what’s on the appetiser list.

The wine list is also quite complete, with wines spanning quite a spectrum to suit most preferences and wallets. With wines starting at around €12 and heading up to €120, there’s something here for everyone.

Tough as the choice of starters was, I picked the veal carpaccio because our host recommended it. He also recommended the salmon ceviche and the better half was convinced.

There was also no way she was leaving the restaurant before she tried the pork cheeks. They happen to be something of a speciality of hers, so there is personal preference with a side serving of competition going on when she orders them at a restaurant.

I feel that a side note about this dish is warranted. Pork cheeks are a relatively inexpensive ingredient that goes unnoticed all too often.

Perhaps we’re not used to the notion of eating this part of an animal. It is an exceptionally tender and juicy part of the animal that seems to concentrate all of its flavour into a tiny morsel.

It could also be a question of availability, since not all butchers tend to stock this delicacy. Head over to Stella Maris Butcher and get your hands on the ones they stock. Then slow cook them to the simplest recipe that the interwebs will cough up.

Upon our host’s recommendation I picked the scottona tagliata. This is a little like the one Heston claims as his own, served with rucola, Parmesan shavings and aged balsamic vinegar. The scottona is a cow that has just reached adulthood but has yet to make good use of this. The meat has all the flavour of a mature animal without any signs of age. It would be the perfect follow-up to veal.

We added an inexpensive Cote du Rhone to our order and this was served quite expertly by our host. Meanwhile, his colleagues served water and fresh bread and butter. They then whisked the bottles away so that they wouldn’t clutter our table. This was never an issue. We never spent more than a few seconds with empty glasses.

The real beauty of this place is a factor I’m not sure they planned at the outset. Since all sorts of people can walk in off the street or even from the hotel itself, this excellent service is not matched by the need to dress overly formally.

Our starters were served quite quickly. Mine was generous for a carpaccio dish and beautifully presented, with the truffle dressing neatly laced on top of the thinly-sliced meat that was arranged with geometric precision. All senses were pleased with the result when it turned out to taste as good as it looked and smelled. Truffle can be overpowering, particularly when served with flavours as fragile as veal.

This was never an issue, and the dish was excellent. The salmon ceviche was more appropriately sized to the ‘antipasto’ name it bore and was halfway between an amuse bouche and an antipasto.

The fish was very fresh though. I thought the soy dressing to be overpowering but it was made clear that my opinion didn’t matter. I suppose if you’ve read the description, you’re all for the soy.

Our main courses took a while but the atmosphere is pleasant and we were pleased as punch with the way things went so far so I wasn’t about to complain.

They were served by an entire team, so in a few seconds there were two main courses and four little bowls of sides arranged neatly on our table. The chips are an experience, so if you decide to pay Waterbiscuit a visit, don’t eat the lot before you taste the main course. You’ve been warned.

My scottona was good but not the best steak I’ve tasted. It needs a little more ageing. The dressing is also a little too intense for this most delicate of steaks. It is still at the top of the charts. Just not at the very top.

The pork cheeks, on the other hand, were a cause of bitter-sweet tears. They were better than the ones my expert better half prepares herself. She wasn’t certain whether to rejoice or feel defeated. I stole a few bites and rejoiced on her behalf.

We wrapped up with a dessert to share – an almond financier, with caramelised apple and a calvados parfait with lime – and it was good but not great. The parfait was well executed but easy on the calvados, the caramelised apple decent, and the almond financier a cool counterpoint to its counterparts.

We paid a total of €80 and, while this isn’t an inexpensive meal, it was quite good value for the fine food and excellent service. I’d been lifted from boredom, treated very well, and was very happy to be proved wrong.

Strange as it is to name a restaurant after a galletta, I’m not about to let the name get in the way of a fantastic evening.

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