Ed eats

Pepe Nero
Vault 18
Valletta Waterfront
Marsa
Tel: 2122 2220

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

Consider a man who is not certain whether he is of this earth or an alien. His reaction to this identity crisis is to don a tight-fitting suit, save many people from death or tragedy, and have awkward human relationships as a result.

Then there’s the one who isn’t sure whether he’s more human than arachnid. He also wears a skin-fitting suit, saves a bunch of people and has awkward human relationships as a result. How about the orphaned billionaire with chiroptophobia?

I’m not saying that every identity crisis will lead to the development of a superhero. However, if one were to look at it in reverse, it seems like most superheroes started off with a terribly bumpy road to self-discovery. And I’d like to keep this more optimistic correlation in mind for a while.

Of course, there is a food angle. This newspaper does not (yet?) have a weekly column dedicated to the reverse-engineering of superhero evolution. If this subject turns out to be what readers have been clamouring for though, I’ll fill in as guest contributor while they search for the real deal.

The analogy is with restaurants that I’ve visited when they hadn’t yet developed an identity. They were feeling their way around with many aspects of the experience they sought to deliver. I wasn’t sure, back then, whether they’d ever realise what their strengths really were and play to them. In time, the ones that found focus and put their efforts into it, turned into caped saviours from gastronomic boredom. These are my superheroes.

The ones that kept trying to be everything to everyone eventually floundered. A number of them have even hung up their aprons and their ladles, closing their doors to an unimpressed public. This should not have to happen, particularly if a good kitchen is at stake.

Sometimes a case of uncertain identity is evident before I even get to try out a restaurant. Pepe Nero, at the not-in-Valletta Valletta Waterfront, is a place that I’d been hearing about ever since it opened, without ever being able to form a coherent set of expectations of the place. Excellent pizza is probably all I’d managed to hang on to. The rest was a set of opinions that kept contradicting each other. Good service and poor service were quoted to me. I’d been told the place is expensive by some, and that it is well-priced by others. The same dichotomy reached my ears about the steak.

I’d been meaning to try it out for myself but every time the opportunity presented itself, it was a weekend. And I avoid Valletta Waterfront during the weekends. A Monday night would be perfect though, so that’s when I paid the place a visit.

The terrace was sparsely occupied when we arrived, so we picked a table as close to the water’s edge as possible. A young lady brought menus and another took our order for drinks. Both girls were efficient and, even as the place filled up throughout the evening, managed to zoom around the place and keep up with all the tables.

The presentation of the steak is closer to what I’d expect of a more classy venue

Service was, as a result, quite impersonal and occasionally rushed. The throughput that the location brings with it almost dictates this purely functional service unless the front of house grows to suit the footfall. I’d figured out the uncertain reports about service. It is so utilitarian that it isn’t remotely memorable unless an incident crops up, in which case ‘poor’ service is remembered.

The menus tell a totally different story. They are ambitious and describe food in a way that is actually quite enticing. Their meats are, according to the menu, all dry-aged for 21 to 28 days. This, to me, sounds perfect. Nothing beats dry ageing for flavour and texture and yet, being an expensive process, it is a rare occurrence. A lot of liquid is lost in the process of dry ageing, so selling a steak by weight becomes costly for the restaurateur. The prices are right, however. I was intrigued.

I was even more excited by the fact that the beef is also classified by the cow’s feeding habits. Grass-fed, grain-fed and milk-fed animals are described as such. The menu includes exciting prospects like venison, spaghetti alla chianina and a Wagyu Kobe beef salad. The more I read through the menu, the more I wanted to taste every single item on it.

With a menu like this I reassessed my surroundings. I had no tablecloth, a bar-style high-ball would be my water glass for the night, and a paper napkin would soak up any truffle butter that escaped my careful lips. The incongruity mounted.

The pizza menu, a seriously tattered addition to the menu, is also full of intrigue. Once again, I ‘settled’ for my choice after having read one-third of it, then kept changing as I read through. But when a pizza mentions truffle butter and cinghiale, I know that it has to be the one.

As much as the description of the steak had piqued my curiosity, I just had to try this pizza. Especially since I’d been swayed into paying a visit by the recommendation of a particular couple of pizza lovers whose opinion I value greatly.

The wine menu is a little oddball but manages a decent variety of styles and prices. I was unlucky to pick one that wasn’t available on the night so settled for a practically anonymous Bordeaux that cost half as much as my original pick. This made me feel like I’d driven a bargain.

We waited for a perfectly reasonable 10 minutes or so before our food was served. The presentation of the steak is closer to what I’d expect of a much more classy venue, with a precise arrangement of baked potato and grilled vegetables that give away extensive classical training in the kitchen.

The fillet, requested blue, was perhaps one notch up to rare. It was a very good cut and had been simply grilled but didn’t show as much ageing as I expected. It was a great steak. Just not as outstanding as the description would have me believe.

The pizza is excellent though. The base is crisp, dry and very smoky, and the ingredients generous enough to reveal the sheer intensity of complementary flavours without an overload that would make it sag. I kept eating into it long after I was certain I couldn’t eat any more, such was my reluctance to waste a bite.

By the time we were ready, the terrace had been almost entirely occupied. The reputation for good food is, after all, a powerful driving force. Paying €60 for one course each and an inexpensive wine isn’t exactly good value either, especially since the experience doesn’t match the food quality.

To paraphrase wisdom once imparted to a superhero, with great food comes great responsibility. At Pepe Nero, the food is there, and is priced to match.

If the service and décor eventually make the grade, and the menu goes a little easier on the promises, we could easily have a contender for a top-spot restaurant.

Meanwhile, I’m prepared to make all allowances necessary that will permit me to slowly eat through their entire pizza menu.

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