Ed eats
The Blue Elephant
Hilton Hotel
Portomaso
St Julian’s
Tel: 2138 3383
Food: 7/10
Service: 7/10
Ambience: 8/10
Value: 6/10
Overall: 7/10
Imagine there existed a magic formula to the perfect restaurant. Anyone in possession of this formula would be in a position to create an experience that would delight enough patrons to keep them coming back for more. Happy diners and good business sound just perfect.
Working within the supposition that a formula exists, we can safely say that it would start with a great location. Somewhere by the sea, ideally within a structure that yields traffic. Theme the place to add some spice, otherwise there would be nothing to separate the restaurant from its competitors.
This would require some clever internal wizardry to cut off the place from its surroundings and apply the theme throughout. There is an added benefit to this – that of severing the internal experience from the restaurant’s surrounding and taking control over the ambience.
The serving staff will run the floor like a well-oiled machine, every member knowing his or her place at all times. They will need to know the menu inside out and have the ability to treat every customer like they are the only ones in the restaurant. You’d need a small army to achieve this.
Food will have to be varied, tasty and consistent. Those who have sampled and loved the food will surely want to come back for more and be able to recreate their wonderful experience very faithfully.
And all of this costs a packet, yet food prices must not reflect this, otherwise the restaurant will lose some of its appeal by being unaffordable.
I recently visited a restaurant, The Blue Elephant within the Hilton in St Julian’s, that seems to have been based upon this formula. The longer I stayed, the more I observed the way the place works and the more I realised that plenty of effort has gone into following this formula for perfect delivery of the Blue Elephant experience.
Well, to be fair, it is a franchise operation. Blue Elephant restaurants are to be found flung far away from each other around the globe. The possibility that they have a very deliberate system in place is actually quite high.
To start with, the location is quite particular, overlooking the Portomaso Marina and open seas just beyond that. The view from the terrace at the Blue Elephant at night is one of inky black tranquillity, with the gentle rocking of boats I can’t afford straining gently at their mooring lines. Yet, although we’re within the underbelly of a very busy hotel that is within the gut of the horribly chaotic St Julian’s, there is nothing here to remind patrons of this unpleasant fact. Entering the restaurant from the quay is like walking through a wardrobe and into another place altogether. We neither saw, nor heard, talking lions though.
I sampled most of the dishes and was pleased with the variety of flavours, but slightly disappointed with the quality of the ingredients themselves
When we called to place a reservation, merely hours before we’d intended having dinner, the girl on the phone said we wouldn’t be seated until 10pm. She said she’d call if we’re in the area and our table was ready earlier. At 9.30pm she did call and off we went. Service on the phone was already helpful, precise and welcoming.
Greeted at the door, we were shown to our table on the terrace, as we’d requested. Out here, the weather was tropical and, pleasant as the view was, I’d been wooed by the air conditioning inside. We asked if another table was available and were lucky, so in we headed back to the cool dining area inside.
What is probably a cavernous space has been divided into little oases of serenity, separated by wooden structures, bridges, water features and many, many plants. It is like eating inside a tree house placed inside a tropical jungle. The music is hardly audible, drowned by the sound of waterfalls and streams.
A young lady brought menus and gave us time to decide. By the time we’d gone through the extensive menu of Thai cuisine, we were thoroughly confused. I wanted to try everything on the menu and my stomach is unfortunately finite.
We finally settled for Thai fish cakes and Dim Sim for starters and chillied lamb and the combo called the Blue Elephant Platter for main course. I added Pad Thai to go with the lamb and a bottle of Gewurztraminer by Domaine Schlumberger for its intense fruit, an unusual choice for me, yet one I was keen to try out with the food we’d ordered.
A young man turned up to see if all was well and whether we needed help with the menus. He was smart and pleasant, and when we told him we were ready to order, he merely smiled and encouraged us to do so. He listened to our order and nodded every now and then, without ever writing anything down. When we were done, he walked to another table and did the same thing. If our food order was correct, I’d be lost in admiration.
While we waited for our food, I observed the staff who were moving around the place, following specific routes and carrying out their tasks with clean precision. A man walks to a station with an enormous and, evidently, heavy tray of food above one shoulder. He then picks up a similar one, loaded with empty dishes, from the station opposite. While he’s walking away, another young man is approaching the first station with a tray of food. This is human clockwork at its best.
Our starters were served within about 15 minutes, a wait I thought excessive considering the apparent effectiveness of the system in place.
I’ve had Thai food that’s been prepared at home by a Thai lady who grew her own ingredients in a greenhouse and started her green paste from scratch, so I’m quite used to her mashing up ingredients until they turn into a goo that’s closer to sausage filling than anything. So I wasn’t surprised when the inside of the Thai fish cakes had the consistency of a fish sausage. They were intensely fragrant though, full of lemongrass and citrus, and made for a pleasantly zesty start to the meal.
The Dim Sum (for such is the spelling I prefer), was served in its own bamboo steamer, as is customary. The little dumplings also had the consistency of sausage filling but were pleasant with the slightly thickened soy sauce they were served with. Both dishes looked lovely, served with colourful garnish and assembled with a meticulous precision. This followed through to our main course.
The combo platter brought together a veggie dish based on the magical edamame bean, a lamb-based massaman curry, plain rice, a yellow prawn curry, a fiery concoction based on glass noodles and a couple of little deep-fried cheese. Each was served in its own little bowl and all bowls were neatly arranged around a tower-like serving dish. If you’re uncertain about what to order, this is an excellent introduction to the spread of colours, flavours and textures at the Blue Elephant.
I sampled most of the dishes and was pleased with the variety of flavours, but slightly disappointed with the quality of the ingredients themselves. This carried through to my chillied lamb, that turned out to be a fiery sauce that I just fell in love with while lamenting the chewy consistency of what was a very cheap cut of lamb. I ended up pouring the sauce all over the quite accomplished Pad Thai noodles and enjoying its intensity.
At this point I decided I’d experienced enough of the formula and asked for the bill. Paying €50 each, I’d have preferred to be treated less like a number and more like I were the only client. The price of the food is actually quite reasonable – it is the absurdly overpriced hotel wine list that pushes the overall price up.
The way the place is planned is great, although, occasionally, the burden of a busy summer night shows a couple of cracks inwhat could have been a seamless experience.
The magic formula is there. Some more attention to the delivery can turn the experience of every diner into a memorable escape from reality and into the carefully curated journey of Blue Elephant Thai food.
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