Ed eats

Chinese Tavern
29, Pinto Wharf,
Marsa.
Tel: 2122 6655

Food: 7/10
Service: 8/10
Ambience: 6/10
Value: 9/10
Overall: 7/10

Never have I cursed our economic plight more than I did this week. I normally stick to my regular background grumbling about the state we’re in. It would be good if people spent more because we’d get more business. It would be good if our clients actually paid us sometimes because we’d afford more food.

This week was different. I walked out of Ma Che Bontà in St Julian’s, raised my head like a wolf that has an altercation with the moon, and cursed the financial system to a barren hell – one where no food will be served. And I hoped that whoever is responsible would die on an empty stomach so that the gnawing will last for an eternity; which at last count was a hell of a long time, so to speak.

The lady at the counter served some lovely goulash, steamed meatballs in a delightfully simple tomato sauce, and a very tender breaded chicken breast. All served with baked potatoes and cabbage. Then she informed me that business has been far too slow to sustain the place and that Friday would be their last day. By the time you’re reading this, they’ve closed their doors for good.

Behind me, on the wall, a laminated print-out of a review I’d written about the place hung, crooked and forlorn – a useless trophy that now serves to taunt us about better times. Every meal I’ve had there since I first discovered the place three years ago has been homely, tasty, quick and inexpensive. It was almost like walking into a Sicilian home and being treated like family. And now it is no more. I tried to work out a possible cause but every avenue I explored made no sense, so I just gave up thinking and simply resorted to cursing our economy, knowing it wouldn’t make the slightest difference.

The night before, I’d eaten out with a couple of young people who, like students everywhere, have the uncanny ability to sniff out a bargain from 10 miles away, even if it is located inside an airtight bunker. This bargain happened to be buried in an unlikely part of what I suppose is Marsa but I’m not sure about addresses in the area anymore. If the waterfront project in Floriana/Marsa can be called the Valletta Waterfront, then the address of the Chinese Tavern could easily end with ‘Paris’. They’re humble enough to stick with Marsa.

The restaurant is a two-minute walk from the Valletta Waterfront and is in the most unlikely place one could possibly expect a Chinese restaurant to be. Sandwiched between shipping companies and duty-free supplies, the restaurant is a tiny, glowing oasis of hope within this barren wasteland. This makes parking very easy, so there is a clear advantage to start your evening with.

The restaurant hasn’t changed for a long time. I had a recollection of going there more than a decade ago and I recall most of the décor to have remained the same. The only difference is that the last time I visited, we had to elbow our way through a packed house to a table on the upstairs dining area. Tonight there was just one other table occupied.

A Chinese man greeted us at the door and led the four of us to a table at the centre of the restaurant. He took our orders for drinks and let us have a look at the menu. Three of us were having Tsing Tao, the lovely Chinese beer that I only ever think of drinking when at a Chinese restaurant. And we were happy to see that they served this cold, precious liquid in pint-sized cans.

The menus are Chinese restaurant menus. There are hundreds of numbered items and just as many spelling mistakes. The format is traditional too, with starters followed by duck intermediate courses and going on to main courses split by main ingredient. At the end are the obligatory set menus so if you don’t have the patience to read through page upon page of goodness, you can leave the choice in their hands.

We were tempted by the combo starter but the sensible students pointed out that there would be items we’re not keen on, so we’d be better off picking starters that we liked and could share. Helpfully, the menu lists the number of portions per item so we could go for chicken satay kebabs, beef satay kebabs and duck spring rolls, all of which have four pieces per portion, as well as a portion of crispy squid that is served as a bowlful of the little fried morsels.

Entirely satisfied with the experience and the price I paid

For main course we chose gong pao beef because it was listed as hot and we were all up for something fiery. From the sizzling menu we opted for lamb with ginger and spring onion, mainly because I don’t think I’ve eaten lamb at a Chinese restaurant before. Purely in the name of tradition, we just had to go with sweet and sour pork. And to break tradition, we ordered a quarter aromatic duck with pancakes to be served with the main course.

Our host was gracious and patient with us as we changed our minds and meddled with each other’s choices. He repeated our order to us to make sure all was fine and then vanished into the kitchen. Within seconds we had bowls of prawn crackers and dunked them in satay sauce so that they fizzed, popped and tasted better.

Our starters were served really quickly and placed on the obligatory heating trays that employ the terrific caloric source afforded by teeny tea candles. The kebabs were acceptable for tenderised meat on a stick but we weren’t expecting fine dining. The duck spring rolls made us wonder why we ever ate any other kind since the veggie ones tend to be so uninspiring and the crispy squid was, well, crisp and salty, so fun to munch through.

Our mains were once again served quite quickly and offered little surprise. The quality is probably better than most Chinese restaurants I’ve tried, with the thoughtful addition of raw celery and very fresh onion so there was a spread of textures, temperatures and flavours that made for a refreshing relief from what is normally a homogenous goo.

The beef wasn’t as spicy as we would have liked it to be but this is probably tuned to what the market expects, and all four of us are used to volcanic dishes. We’d added skinny noodles and fried rice to the main courses and both were happy to soak up the sauces and wait patiently until we cleaned our plates to deliver the final dash of flavour.

The bill was split into food and drinks and the total for food added up to just under €16 per person. Adding drinks didn’t manage to top the €20 mark. I’ve complained about the terrible experience I inevitably have at Chinese restaurants before.

While I hadn’t treated my tastebuds to haute cuisine, I walked out of the Chinese Tavern entirely satisfied with the experience and the price I paid.

This won’t pull the globe out of its economic woes but it turns out to provide inexpensive comfort food that goes a long way towards temporarily relieving the symptoms.

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