Lamb tartare

Ed eats

Al Molo
Level -5 Portomaso
St Julian’s
Tel 2138 4300

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

The Oxford Dictionary word of the year has been chosen, even if there are a few weeks left before the year is out. The word is, possibly, a reflection of the generation of self-labelled content creators that have taken a boring computer-to-computer network and turned it into a vibrant, global community.

Put that way, you’re probably expecting wisdom. Alas, the word chosen by the most egregious of lexicographers is ‘selfie’. Even my word processor underlines it in red as a spelling mistake.

If we’re allowed to come up with words, I want one for the pleasant surprise when finding money in the pockets of clothes I haven’t worn for a while. I expected there to be one in The Meaning of Liff but even that let me down for once. I suppose a word for this bounty (or the associated surprise) will have to be coined, as it were.

I experience a very similar feeling when food turns out to be better than expected. There is a set of expectations that I have at the start of every meal and this has a bearing on the final outcome.

If my enjoyment surpasses my expectations, then it is like finding a fiver in a pocket. If I’m totally amazed, then the pleasant surprise increases in magnitude, just like it would as the denomination of the note in your pocket increases in value.

I’ve been to restaurants that have been the equivalent of a sharp key in my pocket, waiting for an unsuspecting finger and driving the pointy bit under my fingernail. These are the ones that promise heavenly delights and serve up a pile of rubbish. There have been cases where I simply refrain from writing the experience into a review, purely to spare you an outpouring of misery.

This week’s experience was one of the happy ones. It was a little exception, in the sense that I walked into a restaurant with high expectations and still managed to walk out pleasantly surprised.

I’ve been to Al Molo at Portomaso a few times and it has changed hands and chefs in the meantime. The last time I visited, the guys from Don Serafino had taken over. They started out with the best of intentions but subsequent visits had shown that they intended to raise the prices we pay to match the quality they were attempting to achieve.

In hindsight, I suppose they tried for Michelin-style cuisine within a market that isn’t quite ready to pay the price. When I visited Noma in Copenhagen, it ‘only’ had one star and my wallet took a beating it hadn’t been expecting. I wonder what the second star has done to their prices.

I recently heard that the Don Serafino name had been dropped from the Al Molo sign, so changes were being made and I planned to pay a visit at some point. That happened earlier than I had predicted, finding myself in the area and in need of a good meal.

The appearance has remained intact and this is a good thing. I love the interior and the tables on the terrace that are a couple of metres from the lovely, little marina. The menu has changed, and this is where the pleasant surprise kicked in.

This week’s experience was one of the happy ones. It was a little exception, in the sense that I walked into a restaurant with high expectations and still managed to walk out pleasantly surprised

For one thing, the prices are now reasonable. Starters and antipasti are now all under the €10 mark with only a couple of exceptions (like foie gras). Main courses hover around the €20-25 region.

The menu itself has been crafted in a way that retains plenty of familiarity yet adds an inventive twist, so if you’re used to a main ingredient but want an innovative angle to it, you’re in the right place.

Let’s say you’re happy to start with a beef carpaccio. At Al Molo, it is served with baby spinach leaves and caciocavallo shavings. And I once swore that if I were to see any more rucola served with beef carpaccio, I’d stop eating altogether.

This wasn’t reason enough for me to order beef carpaccio. There was a lamb tartare and a Barbary duck carpaccio vying for my attention. I was lucky to be with a fellow carnivore, who was also up for eating anything that won’t bite back. We would order one each and then swap.

A little, intermediate pasta course was on the cards as well because I figured the carpaccio would need a follow-up before the wild boar I’d planned for main course. The real reason was that I just had to try the paccheri with wild mushrooms, sherry and mascarpone. I also wanted to give the Jerusalem artichoke and truffle risotto a shot but had to stop somewhere.

The maître d’ is a gem. He’s polite, efficient and knows what’s on the menu, so he was great to have around when we were trying to make heads or tails of what we’d order. He was assisted by two young ladies who did their job well enough but can’t possibly match his experience yet.

We were seated on the terrace, enjoying al fresco dining before the weather chills too. Other patrons were also quietly enjoying the idyllic marina and, despite what was probably a busy evening, we were served quite quickly. The food presentation was simple and very effective, with a restrained aesthetic that makes food look great and approachable.

The lamb tartare was served almost in the same way as beef tartare is, and had been hand-chopped and built into a neat mound with an egg yolk on top.

I expected the texture to be more unctuous than beef but this was very lean and simply exquisite. It might not be a dish for the faint of heart but it is a welcome alternative to beef.

Just as lovely was the duck, sliced very thinly and retaining the firm texture that this fowl’s meat is known for. It was dressed with an orange-infused oil and, quite bizarrely, a black bean sauce.

The result is curious, with orange as the only acidic counterpoint to what is otherwise a very homogenous set of flavours and textures. As we fought over the last bit of this unexpected delight, a second surprise quietly snuck upon our table.

The chef had popped out of the kitchen to tour the tables and make sure everyone was happy. Chef Andrew, of Salvinos fame, was addressing us and asking if all was fine with the tartare and carpaccio. I’d thought the menu had a consistent character and here stood the persona behind it.

Our pasta dish was, at our request, a small portion. It looked the part, served in a large bowl and piled delicately beneath mascarpone shavings. Toasted almonds provided a crisp and smoky dimension to the earthy, pungent scent of the mushrooms, while the sherry danced in and out, making the occasional appearance.

Our main course of wild boar with fig and Teriyaki sauce was something of a wild card. It sounded to me like the collision of three kitchens, yet the combination turned out to be quite devilishly pleasing.

The tenderloin is narrow in cross section and the solution was to pile three slices on top of each other, with a fig at the top and sauce served all around. This is not an animal known for the tenderness of its meat, yet this had been expertly prepared and had retained all its moisture and texture. The fig and Teriyaki added sweet, sour and savoury flavours one can dose at will, since the sauce is served around the mighty tower of boar. Too much might be overwhelming, but the right amount really did the trick.

I had added pasta and skipped dessert, so we still got to eat three courses and paid just over €45 each for the meal. Adding wine will tip you over the €50 mark. The place looks gorgeous, the food is superb and the prices are just right – a lovely combination of fine-dining elements with the approachability and affordability of a bistro.

I plan to systematically eat through Chef Andrew’s menu. Pity I can’t review the same restaurant every week because this column would turn into a very happy place.

You can send e-mails about this column to ed.eatson@gmail.com or follow @edeats on Twitter.