Japanese Restaurant Madoka
20, St George’s Road
St Julian’s
Tel: 2701 1440
Food: 9/10
Service: 9/10
Ambience: 7/10
Value: 8/10
In its most literal sense, the Japanese word ‘Madoka’ translates as ‘circle’. It is used as a girls’ name or surname, meaning real, true, excellent or beautiful, and it also implies calm, contentment or serenity.
The word seems a fitting choice, therefore, for a restaurant serving “truly authentic Japanese cuisine” and whose website wishes patrons a “relaxed and enjoyable meal”. But I wanted to find out if Madoka lived up to its name, or if it was ‘all mouth and no trousers’ as they say back in er… eh-hem, well, I wouldn’t want to blow my cover, but you get the gist.
I consulted, as per usual, the almighty maker and breaker of culinary reputations that is Tripadvisor, and if the big T was on the money (which it usually is) then we were in for a treat. Madoka comes ‘highly recommended’ with five glittering stars. Of its 60 or so reviews to date, about 80 per cent rate it as ‘excellent’ and the rest merely ‘very good’.
The comments refer to Madoka’s “genuine Osaka street food” as “authentic”, “high quality” and “more than fantastic.” One even describes it as “the ultimate Japanese restaurant on the island of Malta.”
Not too shabby for a restaurant which only opened in March 2018. But was Madoka really the embodiment of its name, or would we end up down in Paceville later on, sniffing out something dirty-but-delicious instead?
“Madoka has a Japanese chef!” exclaims one of the reviewers, who happens to be Japanese himself, and uses the opportunity to ‘out’ Malta’s other Japanese restaurants, most of which (allegedly) have Asian, but not specifically Japanese, chefs. He goes on to claim the “taste is real” and “this is the place to go”. Well, you heard it here folks (albeit second-hand). My work here is done.
Ok, ok… clearly I wrote the rest of the review, but at this point it may be academic. And, another thing, shouldn’t the scores out of ten be at the end? I mean, it’s a bit of a spoiler having them up-top there, smugly giving away the ending of the story you haven’t read yet. So, I ask you, does anyone truly want to read a good review? Aren’t we all secretly hoping that dirt will (literally) be dished? Well, as this week’s nominated reputation-slayer, I’ll do my very best to find some, I swear.
Right, we’re going in… nameless, discreet and forgettable (I hope). We go up the stairs to the first floor where we are politely greeted and shown to our table. So far so good. Unfortunately. I was hoping to be ignored at the door, or have our reservation mysteriously vanish from the booking system, but no such luck. I scan the room for imperfections, but even the music is playing at the ideal volume so we can talk amongst ourselves, but not be heard by our neighbours. I rail at the gods, “Why?!”
But, hold on a minute… the music… that’s it. Hallelujah! Gotcha Madoka, that music is most definitely NOT Japanese! I’m no aficionado, but I’m pretty sure we’re listening to jazz. Yup, those wailing trumpets and interminable drunken solos are unmistakable.
Would we end up down in Paceville later on, sniffing out something dirty-but-delicious instead?
This ‘first dirt’ makes me so giddy that strangely even the jazz is not sounding terrible. Although I’ll admit it could be the effects of the zingy little Asahi (Japanese beer) I’ve just polished off. I make a mental note to deduct one authenticity point, but then I remember it’s not one of the scoring criteria. Doh! Back to the drawing board.
Maybe I’ll knock it off ‘Ambience’ instead, but I’m clutching at straws. Actually, there’s nothing wrong with the atmosphere, it’s just not ‘wow’. It’s pleasant enough, tasteful, relaxed, you know… ok. But since I’m looking for flaws, maybe it’s the décor that’s the weak link. The black and red colour scheme is typically Japanese of course, but words like ‘nice’ and ‘fine’ come to mind, which, considering its five-star rating for food, don’t cut the mustard.
If you ask me, there’s a lot more mileage in the Japanese theme. Why not take it up a notch with traditional paper screens, Hokusai murals, kimonos, fishponds, bamboo and pandas… no, wait a minute, that’s China. My bad. #toomuchasahi. Anyway, I just feel there should be more, you know… Japan.
Clearly we needed to order some food before the beer went completely to my head and I stopped hating jazz altogether. Perish the thought.
Madoka offers lunch, dinner and take-away, dedicated vegetarian and kids’ menus plus a selection of meat and seafood dishes. Additional menus offer daily specialities, desserts and toppings, and drinks include Japanese cocktails, whiskies and Sake.
We order a selection of dishes to share. Our starters are delivered quickly by the discreet and efficient staff, who are careful to minimise disruption to our conversation. These include edamame (boiled green baby soy beans with salt), aubergine and lotus root tempura, and sashimi; “today’s speciality menu” had promised 12 pieces of today’s fresh fish, which turns out to be tuna.
Each dish is a tiny work of art on a canvas of Japanese porcelain; a miniature still-life set in verdant contrast to the hot red table-mats. It’s a visual feast; truly gorgeous food.
As we tuck into the succulent tuna chunks – quite possibly the most tender and melt-in-the-mouth I’ve ever tasted – any last hope of a culinary disaster is fading faster than a fart in a fan factory. I pray that the tempura vegetables will at least be average, but the lord heareth me not. The edamame are toasty, flavourful and salted to perfection. But hang in there my friends, maybe the main dish will suck.
The Seafood Tobanyaki is described on the menu as “today’s seafoods and assorted vegetables sizzled by yourself on a small ceramic plate at your table, with original BBQ dipping sauce.” When it arrives I am crestfallen. We watch it bubble and pop before us, as if dancing on the grave of the entertaining but slanderous food review I’m still denying is dead. This Tobanyaki knows it tastes heavenly and that we’ll fail to find a single juicy put-down for it, or any of its delicious friends. I take one mouthful and it’s over. The perfection is crushing. I’m finished.
Ordering anything else would only have added insult to injury. The homemade dessert menu included Japanese cheesecake, pancakes and ice-cream, plus the intriguing ‘Kyoto’ – an azuki bean paste with condensed milk and sweet green tea sauce.
Now, I ask you, is any of THAT likely to warrant amusing criticism? Exactly. I had suffered enough. I resigned myself to a boring review and strategically withdrew to fight another day.
Madoka is not cheap, (why should it be?) but with a range of €15-35 per head, it’s very reasonable considering the freshness of the ingredients, the artistry of the chef and the outstanding Japanese hospitality. Its staff are softly spoken, unfailingly polite and accommodating to a fault.
If I had one very minor gripe, it would be the absence of an ‘about’ section on the website, or indeed any news in ‘news’. A bit of history would have been nice. Who’s running it? Is it a family business? Who is the chef? Will he cater my divorce party next month? (Shhh, it’s a surprise).
And finally, I cannot, in all good conscience, neglect to warn you of at least one potential threat to your perfect evening at Madoka. My dining companion could not take his eyes off our “absolutely beautiful” waitress (his words). (I told you I was clutching at straws). Apparently Japanese women possess “an elegance you don’t often see in the west”. Dignity, grace, yadda yadda… something about skin.
There was more than one lady on duty that evening, so I hope that if they read this, they’ll not waste energy speculating as to which one of them was the object of desire, (I assure you ladies, you are equally attractive) but will instead share the compliment between them.
I am truly sorry, dear readers, to deny you your weekly dose of cowardly anonymous critique, but I cannot tell a lie. Madoka serves genuinely, consistently and annoyingly good food. So I won’t make a fuss. I’ll just leave quietly by the back door… with my Asahi… (and possibly the chef).