Pet’s Plates

Maldonado Bistro
18, Mons Vella Street,
Victoria
Tel: 9901 9270

Food: 5/10
Location: 7/10
Service: 5/10
Value: 6/10
Overall: 6/10

I had heard a lot about this place, so much so that I was hell-bent on eating there the next time I was in Gozo. And so here I was, in a meandering Rabat road just off Gozo’s incredible Citadel, sitting in a charming little house, beautifully transformed into an Italian bistro.

Outside was wet and windy, but the atmosphere inside was cosy and warm and my partner and I were in the best possible state of mind to tuck in to a hearty meal.

Right from the start, the waiting staff seemed very eager to please. Warm rosemary bread was brought over alongside a little cruet of Sicilian olive oil. As soon as bread supplies began to run low, a generous second helping of bread was immediately served. It was starchy, but hot and homemade and I happily allowed it to be the vehicle for the delicious, thick oil while we mulled over the menu.

And the menu had truly grabbed our attention. The menu at Maldonado is very concise, yet interesting and unexpected, interweaving Gozitan-inspired dishes that make good use of local produce and Italian classic dishes. It all looked very promising: a full page of appealing bruschette, some fresh pasta and several meat and fresh fish dishes, along with a couple of specials. Settling on a starter and main course became tricky.

The quality of the food we ate on the night did not justify the prices

We read each page with relish, savouring the very process of choosing our food.

I had been tempted by the Gozitan ravioli and the Tagliatelle di Mare, but in the end chose one of the specials, the casarecce with langoustine. The flavour of the tomato ragu was good and the two whole langoustines had been cooked well, but the casarecce were heavy and dense and did not feel like the right pasta combination.

The homemade Passatelli alla Norcina with walnuts and mushrooms was extremely bland. It contained very little Italian sausage and there was absolutely no trace of truffle flavour from the truffle cream. The dish had arrived luke-warm at best. We were hardly delighted with the first course, but still hoped that our meat mains would be delicious.

And so onto the main course... A fillet steak is hardly the hardest thing to cook, but certain fundamental rules must be adhered to. These are seasoning, searing, cooking time and resting time. My partner’s beef fillet wrapped in lardo di colonnata – that heavenly, Tuscan porcine delicacy – flambéed with gin and prunes had not been seasoned properly. Neither had it been suitably seared.

In fact, the underside of the fillet was still grey-white in colour, instead of being nicely browned. Furthermore, the meat had evidently not been rested. The resting ritual allows one to obtain optimal flavour, texture and tenderness from a cut of meat. The only thing they got right at Maldonado was the cooking time.

And, in order to check whether they had got that right, they must have had a stab at the fillet and, in so doing, drained it of all its juices. This prized cut of beef had thus arrived swimming in a watery puddle. There was another catastrophe at my end of the table. My pan-seared, partly roasted duck breast had been cooked to death. The meat had been rendered unrecognisable and quite inedible. I could have been gnawing on a leather shoe.

Additionally, the duck breast had been cut up before being allowed to rest. And so, it too arrived in a pool of liquid, overcooked and dry. I didn’t care that my duck was served with a carob syrup and a brandy, fig and chilli sauce. The sauce could have been nice, and may well have complemented the meat beautifully, but I will never know because it had all been diluted by the meat juices.

The kitchen had even struggled to get any half-decent sides out. The vegetables, which consisted of burnt broccoli and cauliflower and sodden potatoes, were poor and, just like the meat, should not have been served. Our waitress, who had been extremely pleasant and (almost too) chatty as she served our starters, came over to ask if all was fine with the main course. I imagine we both looked a bit crestfallen as we cautiously poked at the contents of our plates. I looked down at my duck breast and admitted that it was grossly overcooked.

The waitress feigned a show of concern and managed to ask if I wanted a freshly cooked one. For a number of reasons I turned down her benevolent offer. Firstly, after witnessing their (mis)treatment of meat, I had completely lost faith in the chefs’ abilities. Secondly, we had no intention of dragging out the disappointing meal further, with my partner finishing off his fillet alone and me beginning to eat at around the same time his meal was coming to a close.

The waitress left. My partner’s dissatisfaction with the fillet steak could be read all over his face, yet he had not voiced his grievances. Since my dish had been the worse of the two, he had allowed me the privilege of carrying out any complaining that was to be done.

But the waitress appeared again. Perhaps she thought my partner was eating his meat too slowly.

Or, perhaps he wasn’t smiling enough through mouthfuls. She pounced and instantly began an inquisition.

“Was there anything the matter? What was wrong? Didn’t he like the meat?”

She positively glowered as my partner politely kept things simple and only stated that the meat wasn’t entirely to his liking.

She offered no solution this time. My partner was not asked whether he desired another freshly-cooked steak. Her sweet talk had turned distinctly sour and she stormed off in a huff. She barely managed to make eye contact with us for the rest of our time at the restaurant.

What a complete and utter let down. We couldn’t bring ourselves to order dessert.

The meat situation at Maldonado had been pretty tragic after the elaborate menu that had promised so much.

The food at Maldonado is not cheap. And the quality of the food we ate on the night did not justify the prices. Only the wine was very fairly priced.

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