Ed eats

The Black Pearl
Ta’ Xbiex Seafront,
Ta’ Xbiex
Tel: 2131 6000

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

We all know the pitfalls of statistics. For a start, 42 per cent of statistics are made up on the spot. (Quite obviously this is one such made-up statistic but I felt I should point it out before anyone looks it up and cries foul.)

And the ones that are not made up can be used in every context imaginable and help substantiate the most tenuous of arguments. All one needs to do to deceive is to leave out crucial pieces of information and distort the context.

I could say there are 30 people in a room and their average weight is 30kg. Fifteen mothers carrying 15 babies would make up the 30kg average but my initial statement is as accurate as it is misleading.

It is this quandary that I faced when attempting to sum up my experience at The Black Pearl restaurant. Somehow my evening, and that of the other five people who I had dinner with, was made up of dichotomies that made rating the place quite difficult.

I could have summarised my evening as one that was ‘pretty average’, but I would be quite far from the truth.

For a start, The Black Pearl itself is far from average as venues go. It was originally called The Black Opal. It was renamed The Black Pearl because The Black Adder had been taken. That is quite obviously a lie but I am afraid it was a lie that was just waiting to be said.

Built in 1909, the ship saw its fair share of action, first carrying out trading missions in the icy Baltic seas before crossing the planet to be used as a cruise ship in Australia.

On its way back to England for repairs, she sank in Malta. Repaired here, she finally got her cameo on the silver screen in the film Popeye following which, in true movie starlet fashion, she sank once again into oblivion.

Since the 1980s the impressive vessel has been gracing the Ta’ Xbiex shore, probably because keeping her dry is the best way of preventing her from sinking once again.

Impressive on the outside, the restaurant is let down by the interior. All the right bits of ship are visible inside, with mast stays piercing the upper decks and extending into the dining area for authenticity.

Despite the originality of the place, the lighting is all wrong, the bare tables have nothing naval about them, and the music that can be heard from the bars downstairs completes the totally haphazard experience.

Ten points for the originality and beauty of the ships innards. One point for the rest of the interior and music (of which more will be said later). And that’s the first five points that would have meant nothing unless qualified.

Service was another area that managed to be excellent in some areas and appalling in others. Every one of the people who attended to us treated us with respect, attention and impeccable manners.

Were I to ignore the setting and focus on the service, I would have pictured myself to be in the elegant dining rooms of an old-world hotel, with starched table-cloths and silver cutlery.

Four different people took care of us that evening and the level of service was outstanding every time, so the level is consistently high. Their best efforts were let down by the kitchen though.

We waited for quite a while for starters to be served and then for an even longer time for the main course to be served. We placed our orders at around nine and our main course was served a little after eleven.

And this brings us to the food. The menus have lovely, thick, leather covers and hold a number of plain, printed sheets. Every item on the menu is as average as it gets although an attempt has been made to glorify the food with a valiant attempt at an enticing description for each.

There is one page that stands out – the one dedicated to crustaceans – and this consists of a number of dishes of mixed seafood that include crustaceans and include a couple that offer lobster.

Only three of us wanted starters. I ordered a clam and mussel sauté and the other two ordered a seafood fritto misto to share. Moving on to the main courses I had opted for one of the crustacean dishes but the entire page was unavailable.

Fair play, thought I. I’d rather they admit to running out of a fresh ingredient than dig into their freezers.

At this point I was lost and, with pressure mounting from all at table who made it very clear I should make up my mind pretty quickly, I picked the sea bass and prawns. I know the sea bass is farmed. I don’t normally eat farmed fish. Such was the pressure.

Also, the other items in the fish section weren’t really inspiring. The dish that inspired me least was ordered by two people at table. This was a fillet of salmon, coated in potato and fried in butter. It sounds like broadside assault, all cannon blazing at once, and yet there are people around me who were prepared to stand in the line of fire. To each his own, I suppose.

The wine list is quite interesting and, keeping with the theme, has a bevy of well-sourced and reasonably priced wines that are then followed by €100 bottles of precious liquids.

I doubt I’d order a Meursault 1er Cru Le Cras without so much as a tablecloth in sight. We settled for the lovely Planeta Alastro, a Grecanico/Chardonnay from the Sicilian house that has given us white such as the cheap and cheerful La Segreta as well as the fabulous Cometa. I was delighted to find all three on their wine menu.

By the time the starters arrived, mine had lost most of its temperature and was almost lukewarm. The clams and mussels had been cooked in a very salty stock and I’m not one who complains about the addition of a reasonable amount of salt.

I worked my way through it but couldn’t bring myself to drink the liquid at the end of the stew, usually a final swansong to this sort of dish.

At the other end of the spectrum was the seafood fritto misto, a delightful dish of fried whitebait, squid, and entire black-tail (kaħli) and king prawns. The serving size is more than ample and, though deep-fried, was artfully prepared so every bite was dry and crisp.

The table was divided into those delighted to have ordered it and those wishing they had had the foresight. When our main course finally arrived, my fish had been filleted and accompanied by a single prawn.

The fish had been slightly overdone and cooked in the same salty stock that had all but throttled my shellfish.

I didn’t dare taste the salmon and was informed that it was pretty average. Once again, those who had ordered the fritto misto as a main course were very happily attacking their plates with unbridled enthusiasm.

By the time we were done it was too late to contemplate dessert, especially since we had no idea how long that would take to serve.

We were also quite upset at the loud disco music that was now invading the dining area from the bar downstairs that thought it was high time they cranked it up.

We paid just under €30 each and walked out into the night, once again enjoying the magnificent view of the Valletta skyline.

As one does, we summed up the night before bidding each other a good night. ‘Pretty average’, said one voice, and this was soon echoed by the rest of the party.

I think average is about right in mathematical terms but is a term that needs qualifying.

There is evidence of energy and good intent in the running of the place but I’m afraid being average isn’t quite enough to achieve repeat business.

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