Ed eats

Zen
Portomaso, St Julian’s
Tel: 21386500

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

I recently picked up a book that I had read about a decade ago.

Thought has been put into the menus. Apart from looking the part, the span of food they cover is quite impressive

It was, and still is, a wonderful work of fiction and absurdity that was never an attempt to go down in the annals of classical literature but that provided so many hearty laughs, unexpected twists, and witty insights into how pathetic we sometimes are, that I thoroughly enjoyed it again. But this is not what today’scolumn is about.

I will allow myself a little aside however. Within this book, our pudgy little detective firmly believes in the ‘fundamental interconnectedness of all things’.

This gives him licence to spend two weeks in the Bahamas on clients’ money on the premise that his time there will be somehow connected to the case at hand.

So by this reasoning, the music I am listening to is directly connected to my meal last week via the following chain: Zen is a school of Buddhism that started in China and, about a thousand years ago made its way to Japan.

The Japanese form spread to the West about a century ago and made its way into the writing of JackKerouac. His writings, inspired by the jazz-free forms of the bebop era, in turn influenced Ray Manzarek from The Doors. And that’s what I happen to be listening to by pure coincidence.

I recently visited a restaurant that I first visited about half a decade ago. It was, and still is, a wonderful mix of flavours and colours and textures and charm and was probably intended to be on the list of great dining venues.

It provided such excellent food and service and insight about what the Western take on Japanese food can be, that I thoroughly enjoyed it again. And this is what today’s column is about.

I skipped a few bits and bobs, like the fact that Zen (the restaurant, not the religion) changed ownership recently. If this is remotely possible, the new owners have an even more obsessive approach to delivering the Japanese experience in as enjoyable a way possible and the restaurant looks even better this time around.

Don’t get me wrong, I loved the first approach. It is just that this new iteration is even more pleasing tothe eye and has a much morecomplete menu.

Walking into the restaurant reveals that the familiar layout has remained and some tasteful redecoration has taken place that thankfully respects, and often underscores, the understated aesthetic of the original place.

We were met at the door by a young lady in a classy Kimono. I am often wary of ‘costume’ but this is tastefully done so I regarded the attire as a nudge in the right direction, that of informing us in no uncertain terms that we are in for Japanese food.

We were seated at a table large enough to accommodate the six of us along with all the stuff we seem to carry around with us. Bags (the ladies), little jackets (the ladies again), wallets (the guys) and phones (more than six) along with a camera (mine), various bunches of keys and packets of cigarettes were tipped around the table and sofa-like seating that hostedmy behind.

I think it’s time the ‘designated bag-carrier’ comes into fashion. One person in the group bears a rucksack to carry everyone’s junk for the night. The role rotates. Simple.

Then came the menus. Thought has been put into these. Apart from looking the part, the span of food they cover is quite impressive.

They dispatch soups, starters and tempura on the first two pages and then go headlong into the sushi with grim determination. The sushi is split by type so, for instance, maki is split into a number of pages, with one each for the likes of inside-out (California) rolls, thin rolls, thick rolls, temaki (the conical ones) etc.

Sashimi is left almost to the very end and the menu is wrapped up with a page of main courses. Ordering for six was going to be a nightmare because we all wanted to taste the entire menu.

We ended up ordering multiple portions of about 10 items from all over the menu except the main courses. We figured that we’d order more food if we needed to.

Most of us started with the Miso soup and it was all we expected of it, with seaweed and tofu in a salty and earthy soup.

Half of us also ordered warm Sake, a sort of flat beer that is brewed from rice and often called rice wine. Wine is not a brew but we won’t nitpick so call it what you will.

We then moved onto a selection of seafood tempura, served with its own dipping sauce.

The batter was light, crisp and dry with steaming hot fish inside. It took restraint for us to politely pick individual pieces and pace ourselves, such was the temptation to devour it without a care for table manners.

Within minutes our sushi was served and we took a moment to feast our eyes before actually digging in. The bulk of what we’d ordered had been served in what looked like a huge bento box.

The typical bento is a box that carries all the food for one person’s meal. This bento, splendidly lacquered, was about the size of three of these and divided into segments that carried the different items we’d ordered. Supplemental serving dishes and boards came laden with the rest of our meal.

The colours and the immaculately laid-out sushi was pure eye candy. I let my eyes drift around the box, trying to recall what I’d ordered and identify the individual items.

We started with the sashimi of salmon and tuna, both extraordinarily fresh and cut thickly, served over radish strands as is traditional. This moment is bitter sweet for me.

I know that I should eat sashimi before the more palate-taxing items on the menu and yet I am resigned that the absolute highlight of the evening has to come and go so early into my meal.

Next we attacked the nigiri (finger sushi) and the huge variety of maki and temaki. The variety is too broad to mention individual items but the spread of flavours, colours and textures was as complete as is possible within the sushi realm.

The all-embracing assortment of aquatic animals included scallop, squid, salmon, sea urchin, prawns, tuna, sea bream, and eel. As we ate, the third bottle of New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc was being consumed at a rate to match the sushi.

The detail that went into the preparation matched the detail with which everything else had been delivered so far. Nigiri is served with wasabi, the Japanese way.

The fiery horseradish is in sufficient quantity to act as nature’s antibacterial on the raw fish and add that touch of umami – the elusive Japanese fifth flavour class.

Fresh as it may be, the Japanese always take this precautionary measure that happens to taste lovely as well.

Presentation of the individual items is done with a deliberate gravity so that no roll or slice of fish is out of place. Flowers made out of carrots and other colourful flora fit neatly into place and serve as vibrant backdrops to the bite-sized delights.

By the time we’d dealt with all the sushi, we had just enough space left for dessert. The variety was an interesting, if perhaps overly Westernised selection that included an Azuki ice-cream, the sweet bean adding no more than a subtle hint of the legume to the chilled cream.

I picked the Japanese cheesecake, a layered approach to the Western pudding that alternates a pleasantly creamy filling with layers of super-thin pancake, served with an apricot sauce.

Sitting back and enjoying yet more drinks, we realised that we’d have to come back for the Teppanyaki. The Teppanyaki menu includes the tantalising Wagyu Kobe beef and promises to be an experience as enjoyable as the sushi had been but of a totally different nature.

The bill read like a complete inventory for the restaurant so when we paid €60 per person, and all drinks were considered, thought this was fair for the level of food and service we had been given.

Brace yourself Teppanyaki, here we come.

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