Ed eats

The Exiles
Tower Road,
Sliema
Tel 2143 4771

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

A few weeks ago I wrote about an intensely irritating experience I had gone through thanks to the loud petards that dented what was otherwise a thoroughly enjoyable evening at Gochi in St Julian’s. I also invited anyone who liked them to write to the e-mail address at the bottom of this column.

Instead of receiving e-mails from them I had quite a few e-mails from people who agreed with me. One very polite Mr Purves wrote, and I quote: “Who are these people who seem to hold the country to ransom with their bangs? No one I have spoken to appreciates the noise.” He went on to write that he loves the colourful fireworks and intensely dislikes the loud and featureless petards.

Last Monday, I was invited to an early dinner with a family that includes two young boys. Their choice of venue was Piccolo Padre in Balluta and we were treated to a table at the corner of the terrace that is perched on top of the lovely bay. We were treated like royalty by the unbelievably helpful staff over there, chose from a menu that was quite extensive and very well-priced, and settled down to enjoy the view and the meal.

Before there was time for our food to be served, a barge that was anchored a hundred metres away from us in the middle of the bay let off a series of ridiculously powerful petards that shook the place to its core. The sudden loud noise petrified the young boys and they broke out into frightened tears and sobs. Every few seconds, another petard was fired, rattling the floorboards and further terrifying the frightened kids.

We tried to communicate with them and with each other above the din but there was little we could do. The only way to placate the terrified youngsters was to rush them out of the restaurant and bundle them into the car. The staff at Piccolo Padre were superb. They offered to pack up all the food as soon as it was ready and deliver it to whatever address we gave them.

I saved them the trouble by ferrying the food to my cave and we ate there in peace. The food tasted just as lovely as it would have had it been served at the restaurant itself but we were now denied the amazing spot that the gracious folks at Piccolo Padre had treated us to.

It turns out that the petards were premature explosions of joy to celebrate the San Girgor festa that wasn’t due for a whole week. Whoever pays for and actively condones the senseless noises had decided to regale us with them a full week in advance, imposing the unbearably loud noises on all and sundry, regardless of age, state of health, or dislike for inane bangs.

It seems every loud noise imaginable is regulated by some law or other but the loudest of them all enjoys total immunity and lack of regulation.

And yet I enjoy fireworks as much as the next man. I think the colourful, well-timed and artistic displays are a joy to behold. They are part of our identity and culture and provide a multi-coloured tableau that serves as a unique backdrop to our summer festivities.

I was lucky to enjoy such a spectacle from behind the large, glass wall of the inside dining area at the new restaurant called ‘The Exiles’. I haven’t quite got the purpose of the definite article but perhaps it serves to distinguish the restaurant from the well-known and much-loved ‘Exiles’ bar.

I first saw the place being built while sailing out of Spinola Bay, and the construction site was a real eyesore. It looked like a miniature version of the Excelsior Hotel, a scar on the otherwise gorgeous seashore. Approaching it from land is much less of a poke in the eye, and every effort has been made to make the internal space look clean, modern, and in many ways mimicking the experience of being on board a ship.

The sloping glass wall and the sail-like canopy all contribute to the marine theme, and the stark cleanliness of the furniture completes the modern-chic environment.

We were acknowledged by a rather sullen young man but were luckily served throughout the evening by a polite and cheerful young lady. She delivered menus, took our orders for drinks and gave us some space.

The menus aren’t quite what I expected, going all the way from pizza and pasta to burgers and fresh fish. Somehow the interior put me in the frame of mind of fancier cuisine but none was forthcoming.

I asked our host about this and she informed me that the menu was the same that catered for the tables on the jetty beneath us, making them much more relevant to the dining experience expected of the informal, umbrella-covered concrete deck. Winter would bring a more suitable menu and this was probably worth looking forward to.

We were after a relatively simple meal and the menu suited this perfectly. I chose the grilled calamaretti, marinated in olive oil, lemon and salt, while my companions for the evening picked the riso mare e monti, a risotto with chicken and prawns, and a salad with a trio di pesce. This consisted of smoked salmon, swordfish and tuna atop a fresh, green salad.

We waited for quite a while and I put this down to the choice of a risotto. Any self-respecting risotto takes at least 18 minutes to prepare and had it been served in a hurry I’d have suspected that a reheated dish had replaced the real deal.

While we waited, we enjoyed quite a spectacle. The view from here goes all the way from Balluta Bay, past Spinola, and onwards and outwards to open sea. The St Julian’s festa graced us with a rather spectacular fireworks display that was colourful and thankfully free from thoughtless bangs.

The food itself was underwhelming. My calamaretti were quite insipid and I couldn’t detect a hint of the marinade that the menu had claimed. The portion, generous by any standard, was accompanied by excellent grilled vegetables and very enjoyable roast potatoes that made up for the lack of flavour that my main course suffered from.

The salad was also quite generous, topped with a decent amount of smoked fish that was tasty and very artfully plated to give a dish that looked the part.

The risotto is the dish I find hardest to accurately depict. I tasted it and thought the salty stock was overpowering, and the identical prawns, still attached to their tails, were evidently out of a bag of frozen prawn clones. The woman who had ordered it, on the other hand, liked it for the very same reason and devoured the dish.

We paid €60 for the three of us, including a modest bottle of wine. Bizarre as it may sound, I likened my experience to the time I rented a Fiat Multipla. I hated the way it looked on the outside but, once inside, quickly fell in love with the comfort and practicality of its interior and appreciated that I’d been given a decent amount of car for my money.

And while I returned the vehicle without having formed an emotional tie, I knew I’d have no issues renting one out again should I need the practicality and comfort, knowing I’d be able to return it to its owners without having to actually own one.

You can send e-mails about this column to ed.eats@gmail.com or folow @edeats on Twitter. Or both.