Ed eats

Ta’ Vestru5,
St Joseph Square,
Qala
Tel: 2156 4589

Food: 5/10
Service: 6/10
Ambience: 8/10
Value: 7/10
Overall: 6.5/10

I made it to Gozo last weekend. I always marvel at the inordinate amount of time it takes me to complete the little trip from one tiny island to an even smaller one. Three hours from my cave to Xewkija is really one way of trying my patience.

The potatoes were lovely, golden and crisp with a soft core and seasoning

Ten men occupied a house there, with enough technology among us to be mistaken for a terrorist cell. Anyone prying would quickly tell that we lacked the motivation to get up to any mischief though, so we felt safe.

We twisted and turned through conversations of arcane geekery and political solutions to the world’s ills with no apparent transition between topics. Anyone listening in could not be blamed for thinking that 10 TVs were switched on at the same time, each tuned to a different station.

We planned our food carefully. Ingredients were purchased, meat was marinated, vegetarian (just the one) catered for, and friends and family consulted for takeout pizza options to fill in the gaps. One of us made a reservation for five at Ta’ Vestru in Qala.

I looked up Qala and set my phone to get me there. I’m hopeless with directions in Gozo.

We piled into a car and headed over, parking quite easily in the large square that was buzzing with activity. A live band played in one of the bars and revellers spilled into the square.

The two restaurants that sit side by side poured tables and chairs into the square, too.

The atmosphere was one of a summer evening. I’m not quite sure October has realised what time of year it is.

Our table was outside the restaurant so we got to enjoy the buzzing square and we were pleased we’d opted for short sleeves.

We were brought menus and water by a lady who seemed to be running the service that evening, and had a quick look through. The dishes are conservative for the most part and quite typically Maltese (or perhaps I should say Gozitan to keep the peace).

The decision in favour of a single course was taken and I went along with it. A glutton like me eventually learns to deal with this torture by planning the snack that will fill the gaps when the meal is over.

We skipped to the main courses and picked a number of items that we thought best represented the traditional cuisine they seemed to be happy to offer.

Within minutes our orders were taken and an easy bottle of Australian Semillon and Sauvignon Blanc delivered.

A couple of minutes later, a large dish of warm bruschetta turned up. Laden with tomato and garlic, this was very much appreciated and we dug in, enjoying every bite and keeping hunger at bay.

We waited quite a while for main courses and this was to be expected since we’d opted to skip starters. Whenever food is served too quickly I’m suspicious of the level of preparation.

I once overheard someone complain about his risotto taking 20 minutes to be served. I was thrilled that mine had taken so long and that it had evidently been prepared from scratch.

When our plates had been served, we needed to clear a rather large spot in the centre of the table to accommodate a very generous communal dish of grilled vegetables and baked potatoes. Then this had to move further to squeeze in another large dish of chips. We nodded our approval at the portion size in silent appraisal and then looked down.

My braised pork loin was, in fact, a couple of thinly sliced pork loin that seemed like it had been very carefully cooked through. Attacking it with a knife confirmed this and taking a bite drove the point home.

Ta’ Vestru’s kitchen evidently wasn’t taking any chances with the perils of undercooked pork.

The meat was generously covered in a cream-based sauce that had been generously dosed with thyme and rosemary and this made the dish just edible.

The poor snake* next to me had ordered the same dish and was battling away with his cutlery. He decided to put more focus on the veg and potatoes and left half of his meat.

Across the table, the sly one* had gone for slow-cooked lamb shanks that were served in a thick, tomato-based sauce. I swapped one of my slices of meat for one of his shanks and emerged a winner from this deal. The lamb was tender, wholesomely flavoured and hugely more enjoyable than the pork. I almost pitied him as we swapped plates.

The maverick* among us had played safe this time. He ordered a rabbit stew, and while we battled with our pork and engaged in other table aerobatics, he was silently enjoying the stew that had benefited from long hours of slow cooking and was, he vouched, an altogether well put together dish.

The man to my left sat quiet and inconspicuous as a little flea, gently taking bites of his fillet steak and not saying a word. He had asked for a pepper sauce when given a choice but the sauce looked like plain cream to me, white as Justin Bieber and just as runny.

The steak was tender but, according to him, practically tasteless. I didn’t taste it and, while the texture looked good, can only take his word for it. He did eat it all though, so I suppose the steak had something going for it.

The stars of the evening really sat in the centre of the table. The potatoes were really lovely, golden and crisp on the outside with a soft core and intense but balanced seasoning. The chips looked good and tasted even better than they looked.

We found ourselves enjoying these more than our main courses and we chatted away when we were done with the plates just in front of us, happy to punctuate our conversation with stabs at the central pool of spuds.

We finished off our meal with coffee and, when asked what our meal was like, the snake complained that the pork was tough. He’d been to Ta’ Vestru before and said he’s enjoyed it so he felt he owed them his honesty.

The reaction was interesting. “Dak majjal ta’ Malta,” our hostess explained. This could mean that Gozitan pork tastes better. Or, just in case I’m reading too much into her statement, that perhaps foreign pork tastes better.

In any case, if an ingredient falls below the expected quality of a restaurant, they should never, ever have it on the menu.

We paid just €20 each for a large quantity of food that wasn’t quite up to scratch but that had filled our hungry midriffs.

The atmosphere in the square is very pleasant and, in excellent company, I’d enjoyed the evening. I’ll go back to that square for a meal when I muster up the courage to drive all the way again but I think I’ll try one of the other options available.

*The odd references to my friends are inside jokes. It was easier than making up names for all of them.

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