Ed eats

Six years of writing about food have made me a better person. I value the accumulation of knowledge, and half a decade has taught me plenty I’d never have had the opportunity to learn if I’d never accepted to do this.

I’ve learned about food from a variety of angles I previously hadn’t acknowledged as important. One tends to ignore the sequence of events between the time raw materials are harvested and the time we consume a meal. We also ignore the challenges the industry faces to keep us supplied with the right food at the right prices. Peeking at the industry with a more inquisitive eye gave me insight into both and for this I’m thankful.

The two industries – the one that provides ingredients and the one that prepares it and serves it to us – are closely interlinked and have often been the subject of bad press.

I’m sure there are really dodgy practices on the fringes but we do have access to reasonably responsible food.

Doing what I do also exposed me to a wider variety of cuisines than if I’d never strayed from my comfort zone. This brings with it cultures, ingredients, methods and approaches that are as varied as they are intriguing.

One last aspect I consider one of the more enriching consequences of my gastronomic pursuits is the tribe of unbelievably interesting people I have crossed paths with. From chefs with Michelin stars to multimillionaire restaurateurs, from the wide-eyed, self-confessed ‘foodie’ to the unbearable Philistine, and from world-class sommeliers to those who add Sprite to their sweetened rosé, I have met people for whom food is an irrationally overwhelming passion.

I think the beauty of this passion is that it is irrational, because it is the irrational in us that causes us to seek indulgence. And nothing like indulgent hedonism will lead me to an early grave with a massive smile on my face. Long ago, I knew I’d trade a decade of life for a diet that makes me happy, and I’ll be in a hell full of foodies before heaven is filled with a horde of angsty celery-eaters.

If you’re reading this, you’re probably one of the people to whom food matters, to whom food is a source of pleasure as much as it is a source of nutrition. If I may suggest a gastronomic resolution for the year ahead, I would say try to broaden your horizons. Tread paths you have not previously trodden.

Within reason, be brave. And eat your way across cultures and places you haven’t yet experienced. You’re in for fun and disappointment and I’m prepared to bet that, when the year has flown, you’ll have had more fun than anything else. If some wonderful and arcane knowledge seeps in while you’re not looking, I’d count that among the good things.

As is customary, I will dedicate this last column of the year to a bit of a round-up of some of the experiences this year has provided.

A general comment from a year of eating across our islands is, as usual, about service. The general standard of service remains disappointingly low. So low, in fact, that the times one experiences great service, this stands out. This is a pity, because underestimating the value of an excellent front-of-house seriously undermines the best efforts made in the kitchen. Service is an art and those who spend their lives perfecting it provide an immensely rewarding experience.

Service is an art, and those who spend their lives perfecting it provide an immensely rewarding experience

The other observation is about the price we pay for food at restaurants. I travelled to various parts of Europe this year, including some renowned for high food prices, and still consider our pricing to be well above what it should be.

I understand that restaurants in Malta pay a premium for raw ingredients that aren’t available locally, but this does not justify the full premium we pay for eating out.

Moving on to the list of restaurants I’d like to mention, I have to offer a word of caution. I’ve split the list into categories that exist nowhere other than inside my own head. It is idiosyncratic, but I think it is the fairest way of expressing my personal takes on every experience.

For instance, I have my own little list of restaurants that are able to serve proper heat. When I ask for spicy, I’m not expecting a sprinkle of black pepper. I want volcanic heat that magically allows some flavour to seep through. At the top spot is Garam Masaala in Gżira. This place had the ability to serve the hottest dish I’ve had in Malta and, while this might not be everyone’s method of classification, I’m sure there are those who will appreciate the guidance.

The next would be those restaurants that serve what I broadly categorise as comfort food. My definition of comfort food does not, in any way, indicate the level or skill of cuisine – it is just a list of foods that have the ability to consistently provide comfort. A good pizza, for instance, has the universal ability to provide comfort. The same goes for the most democratic of foods, the burger.

We’ve seen royalty and heads of state enjoying one and yet we all can afford to consume this little luxury at will. My list of permanent providers of comfort include Fratelli Bufala, Monelli, Cuba Bistro and Biancos for pizza and Ryan’s and New York Best for burgers. I eat out much more often than I should, and these are the places I visit to balance olfactory and economic happiness.

The list of restaurants that have the most spectacular location is topped by Giannini in Valletta. Perched atop the bastions at Hastings, the view from the dining area is breathtaking. Getting the service and kitchen that Gianni is known for is a lovely, added bonus.

There are those restaurants that seem to defy definition. They serve their very own style of cooking with technical excellence and a lot of love, yet don’t seem to be bothered with the trappings of fine dining.

They’re there with food quality but allow for very informal settings to make everyone feel welcome. Ali Baba in Gżira, with its incredible Lebanese food has never dipped in quality of food or service.

Rising Sun Bar in Marsaxlokk is the other glowing example of outstanding food inside a welcoming and very inexpensive context. I’ve mentioned both in previous editions of my annual round-up. Their inclusion in this edition is based on extensive re-testing of their quality. A new addition to this category is the excellent Pepe Nero at Jessie’s Bar, serving innovative excellence in a very unassuming guise. I have yet to visit for breakfast, a meal that has become something of a legend in my circles.

I’ve been lucky to stumble upon some interesting kitchens as well. Swedish Delights in St Julian’s is one that took me by surprise, with authentic Swedish food, drinks and service, as did Due Mari at The Point with its ruthless pursuit for authentic food from Calabria.

The last list is of those more special restaurants, where a more premium experience is expected. With varying degrees of excellence are Black Pig in Valletta, The Brasserie at the Dragonara, Al Molo at Portomaso and Dolce Vita in St Julian’s.

They serve their own twist on fine dining, each bringing innovation and flavour into a melting pot and adding love to make the experience all the more special. For sheer technical excellence and premium service, Zen at Portomaso is practically alone in the sushi category.

Finally, I would like to wish you, dear readers, a great start to the new year. May the year bring happiness in whatever form suits you.

And may it be a year of discovery, joy and conversations brought about by eating great food in a welcoming atmosphere, surrounded by people who matter.

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