Ed eats

Trabuxu Bistro
8/9 South Street, Valletta
Tel: 2122 0357

Food: 8/10
Service: 9/10
Ambience: 9/10
Value: 8/10
Overall: 8.5/10

I’ve often suggested that one can approach food from so many different angles that there are hardly any subjects that can be spared when discussing it.

From engineering to etymology, dining to dentistry and fishingto farming, we can go throughthe entire alphabetical listing of subjects and not have exhausted the possibilities.

Naturally, a subject that opens up so many opportunities for discussion brings with it a healthy swathe of areas that are controversial. And I think I enjoy a good controversy as much as I love a well-prepared canard à la presse.

One fabulously disputed theory about French cooking suggests that they owe their fabled cuisine to Britain. Before you react with indignant disbelief, read on a little.

A long time ago, in the British Isles, the best cooks were monks whose monasteries had kitchens that put most modern ones to shame. They grew their own crops, herbs and sources of meat.

At one point, a particular king had a fracas with the Church over an issue I had best not mention. When the green islands became a rather hostile place for Catholic clergy to live, they fled South across the channel, setting up monasteries across the more welcoming France and carrying with them their traditions in the kitchen.

This move simultaneously impoverished British cuisine and enriched that of France. Now you must admit that the story is, at the very least, plausible.

But controversy does not stop there, particularly in France. Two hundred recipes and more exist for what is surely the only way to prepare a gratin Dauphinoise.

Those of you who have tried this dish know that it is a simple side-dish of milk and potatoes. So how can they manage in excess of two hundred recipes? The etymology of the word bistro is another cause for dispute.

A bistro is a small, French restaurant, one that serves moderately priced meals in an unpretentious setting.

Often doing without a menu altogether, bistros are known for providing a quick meal and plenty of character to go with it (I have been to bistros that are referred to by the character of the owner rather than by name, and the characters often sound like Disney’s seven dwarves).

It is suggested that during the Russian invasion of Paris in 1815, the Russian soldiers shouted ‘bystro!’, meaning ‘quick!’, and thus the name stuck.

French scholars are quick to point out that the word Bistro didn’t appear until 70 years later, tipping this theory into the poubelle with much nonchalance.

Testing the theories was easy. What was once Maestro e Fresco in Valletta has recently been converted into Trabuxu Bistro so I had the right place in mind. I’d heard of the new bistro and I’d heard plenty of good things so off I went one weekday night, to brave the ailing city.

I braved the efforts being made to keep everyone out of Valletta, my defiance propelled by the bevy of recommendations I’d heard.

I finally parked in a spot that could have been blue, could have been green, and could have been dirty yellow.

This part of South Street, paved and pedestrianised, is a lovely street to host this gorgeous little spot. The Bistro is all that it should be and walking in I swore I heard Edith Piaf chatting away at a table in the corner.

Antique tables and chairs, often mismatched, are lit by picture lights and ancient desk lamps, gentle swing from the American songbook plays in the background, paintings on the wall are full of colour and movement and the wooden floors complete the well-worn look of the place.

I’m instantly at ease, feeling like I have walked into a restaurant I dine in every day, and a smiling welcome by Krista helps seal the mood. She shows us to our table, takes orders for drinks, and is gone, leaving us to enjoy the place, the window onto South Street and whatever inanities I decided to babble about.

Within minutes it is the turn of Kris (of Trabuxu fame) and he is bubbling with enthusiasm, answering my questions about the menu based on his thorough knowledge of every item on it.

Then we turn to wine and when I expect him to shift into overdrive he is humble about his encyclopaedic knowledge of the subject and recommends a Chateau Le Bonnelle. Who am I to argue?

While we wait for our starters, a basket of fresh bread and grissini is accompanied by a rather lively garlic and butterbean dip with an emphasis on the garlic. I wolf it down, hoping I won’t have any close encounters with a vampire later in the evening.

For starters I ordered what Kris promised will be a small portion of spaghetti with fresh local prawn and courgette. His version of the word ‘small’ and mine differ by several orders of magnitude and I realised that I could easily do without a main course.

The sauce was more of a crustacean-based bisque with little other interference making every bite a little like biting into a lobster. The prawns had been peeled, making it easy to devour the plate with no real damage to one’s fingers, tablecloth, or bystanders.

I resolved not to finish the dish and leave room for the ribeye but the flavour was much stronger than my will.

The same battle of mind over platter was happening across the table. Trabuxu Bistro’s antipasti change every day depending on what is fresh and in season. Frittelli di neonati, juicy, black olives, a Spanish tortilla, grilled courgettes and sautéed mushrooms screamed for attention from a single plate of antipasti.

Every item on the dish was fresh, free from excessive preparation and had a certain home-cooking quality to it. This is what a bistro is about. Today’s ingredients, fresh and simply prepared, with the only common factor from one day to the next being the chef’s unique touch.

Next up was the ribeye, simply grilled and served with grilled veg and baked potatoes. I loved the cut and the cooking temperature but the real star at table was being devoured by the inveterate fish-lover opposite.

A slab of tuna, seared so rapidly that the inside had hardly risen above room temperature. The cut was outstanding, the grilling perfect, and the result was a tribute to every tuna between South Street and Sukumo Bay.

You can opt for more thorough cooking if you’re that way inclined but I would strongly recommend that you leave the cooking temperature to the wizards in the kitchen.

I couldn’t face the prospects of dessert, so I settled for an excellent coffee. Waiting for the modest bill I took another peek at the menu. The most expensive item is a whopping 750g beef T-bone at €25, with prices dropping sharply from there.

The wine menu, containing a couple of bottles from almost every popular region around the world, is a typical bistro menu.

It is, however, supplemented by another few dozen wines that don’t make it to the menu and are recommended by the experts manning the front of house.

Regardless of where the word ‘bistro’ actually came from, I concluded that Trabuxu Bistro fits the definition – an unpretentious restaurant that serves moderately priced meals, oozes charm and has plenty of character.

This far from Paris I can think of no better way to soak up every ounce of the bistro experience. Do yourselves a favour and book in advance. Bon appétit!

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