For our second meal in Paris we followed the recommendation of friends who were joining us on this occasion. When asked what we would prefer, we simply told them that we were game for anything and that the choice was entirely in their hands. So they chose an Italian restaurant.

Our first reaction was one of mild surprise, especially as we virtually never eat Italian when in France, probably because we eat so much of it when we are not. But then we thought, why not? This should be an interesting experience and even if we are served with Frenchified Italian cuisine, this would probably result in a very delicious combination.

I must first point out that this was anything but your run-of-the-mill Italian pasta and pizza style trattoria. In fact it very much lies at the other end of the dining spectrum. I would not quite class it as fine dining per se, which is a term I tend to use very carefully and sparingly. But it was very evidently a sophisticated, quality restaurant, tucked away in a tiny quiet street, well off the beaten track, and mainly catering for its own loyal patrons and aficionados.

We were seated in a delightfully secluded alcove-like recess, providing us with a lovely exclusive and private feeling. I also must point out that the service throughout was a remarkable combination of Parisian efficiency and Italian warmth and cordiality.

At first glance the menu proved to be a breath of fresh air. An Italian restaurant with a very limited and focused menu. A lovely and rather rare thing indeed. I always find that as a general rule of thumb, a restaurant’s quality, or at least it’s aspiration towards it, is inversely proportionate to the length of its menu. Similarly, its wine list should be at least ten times longer than its food list. These are all very vast sweeping statements to which countless exceptions abound, however we all know that there is a lot of truth and probability in this reasoning.

If a restaurant can survive and thrive while offering only a tiny menu, then the chances are that the very few dishes available are in all probability simply sumptuous. If the restaurant is a top establishment catering for a knowledgeable and discerning clientele, then it would probably want to offer an excellent choice of wines to match most people’s tastes. The opposite is also just as obvious. When you have a choice of 60 starters, 40 mains, 30 pastas and 25 pizzas, complimented by a total of two wines – red or white, then you know you are in trouble!

Our Italian restaurant in Paris actually turned out to be more of a Sardinian restaurant after all. The chef himself was in fact Sardinian and as could be expected in such circumstances, the menu was greatly influenced by his regional provenance. They had in fact a very interesting combination of mainstream Italian dishes with a good dose of Sardinian specialities. This was fine with us as we are quite fond of Sardinian food and familiar with their dishes.

For starters we had a delightfully tasty vitello tonnato which was very well prepared with paper thin veal topped with extremely tasty tuna paste. We had carciofi alla romana, which were divine, a spaghetti bottarga, which I always find a bit too salty for my personal taste, but which was also thoroughly enjoyed. Also a straightforward and very decent beef carpaccio. All were overflowing with lovely genuine flavours and very well prepared.

Our mains consisted of a vegetarian lasagne di verdura, which boasted lovely silky and subtle flavours, probably the best such lasagne I have ever eaten. Mallereddus, which I personally find to be a rather simplistic dish, but which was also very happily devoured. This is a Sardinian dish consisting of small sized pasta in a rather plain tomato sauce. Frittura di scampi e zucchini, which was a great delight and nicely light and fluffy. Also ravioli di granchio in an unctuous creamy sauce, which had a delicious filling and equally tasty sauce. And a spaghetti vongole which I was told was rather great, both in terms of the pasta as well as the freshness of the clams and accompanying olive oil based sauce.

We had tiramisu and cannoli for desert. Both were lovely, particularly the tiramisu which had all the pronounced expected flavours of mascarpone, coffee and amaretto.

The wine list was exclusively Italian, but featured a very good selection from various regions, with a marked focus on Sardinia. We selected a Sardinian Sella e Mosca Cannonau Riserva to accompany our meal. This proved to be well balanced, smooth and plummy, with very light hints of oak and was a good choice, although rather overpriced at €40 a bottle. We finished off our meal with strettos, grappas and limoncellos, in proper Italic manner.

My final verdict would most definitely be – a very pleasant meal with very good dishes, all prepared in a refined manner, to produce an overall high culinary standard. It was pricey, even very pricey if you would very mistakenly and pointlessly compare this to a good Italian meal in Malta, but yet another very enjoyable dining experience. We ended this excellent evening by complimenting our friends on their fine and well-informed choice of restaurant and for providing us with a new dining insight – Italian in Paris.

Paris – so where do you start? This is about the only place where we usually choose not to research restaurants, ask for recommendations, or check up ahead, unless we expressly want something totally out of the ordinary. We know our quartiers well and know in general what to look for, and are therefore happy just wondering around and trying out a place that catches our attention.

This impromptu attitude to dining, or as the French themselves call it à l’improviste, provides that little added excitement of not really knowing what to expect, as well as allowing one the freedom of deciding on the spot rather than being tied down to previous commitments and reservations.

We have very rarely had a bad meal, usually end up having very good meals in most places and have even landed a couple of stunners, in spite of this seemingly haphazard manner. The vast number of restaurants in most central areas, our intricate knowledge of Paris, as well a good nose to suss out the good from the not so good, usually pays off handsomely. So in reality there is some sense to our madness.

Our first meal in Paris during this trip was an excellent example of this method. A rather long walk in the centre starting off in Saint Germain des Prés, through Place Saint Michel, to Notre Dame, the Hôtel de Ville, Rue de Rivoli, past the Louvre and into the Jardins de Tuileries, was starting to take its toll on our weary legs, as was the freezing cold wind on our exposed faces. So we decided to have a short rest and a warm drink.

I knew that there wouldn’t be anywhere to go in Place de la Concorde or the bottom end of the Champs Élysées, so we had to make do with one of the kiosks cum bistros right in the gardens themselves. As we entered we were instantly hit by a mouthwatering aroma of food, which made our stomachs rumble and which we simply couldn’t resist. So we decided to have a quick snack while we were there. Now keep in mind that this is a kiosk serving snacks and has no pretension of being anything else but that.

A quick look at the very basic and limited menu revealed that besides the obligatory baguettes and the croques, they also served tartare de beouf and steak frites. Two of the top Parisian favourites which also happen to be two of ours. So that is exactly what we took – two tartares and one steak frites. An unlikely choice you might think in a kiosk, but both dishes were lovely. The tartare steaks were expertly prepared with excellent quality meat chopped up to perfection and served with the habitual raw egg on top and sided by chopped shallots, gherkins and capers – pure bliss. And in case anyone here is thinking that it is rather hard to get raw meat wrong, I would immediately point out that this most definitely is not the case. The quality of the meat and above all the way it is chopped up and never minced, both make a very big difference indeed. As does the choice and quality of the accompanying items.

The cooked steak was succulent, tasty and tender and having requested it rare – in expected French fashion, it was anything but over cooked, even a bit under, which is exactly how we like it. The lot was washed down with a cheap and cheerful Merlot du Pays d’Oc. And that was it – just hit the spot.

This is the Paris we love. Not that there are several truly outstanding top restaurants which may be carefully researched, planned beforehand and booked well in advance. Such top eateries exist in all major cities around the world and sometimes in small towns and even remoter places. These are what I would call “destination restaurants”, as the establishment would be a destination in its own right. We love Paris because of the very high average level of quality you can expect wherever you eat, as well as the sheer impressive number of restaurants everywhere, which all makes eating well so easy and inevitable.

I am very pleased to be able to report a lovely dinner we were fortunate enough to have at the Medina Restaurant in Mdina. This came in stark contrast to the very poor lunch we had in Valletta on Monday. After a couple of weeks stuck at home following my eye operation, I was more than glad to finally start going out again and decided to kick off the week with lunch in Valletta, thereby combining some necessary errands with a nice lunch.

My initial idea was to try out somewhere we hadn’t been to before. I therefore went straight for a few of the establishments which were suggested elsewhere on this page. However much to our dismay, every restaurant I called was actually closed on Monday! So failing all of this we decided to return to a restaurant we know well and where we have had many a decent meal in the past. Although admittedly our last meal there was not quite up to scratch, we had wrongly put this down to them having a bad day.

Very unfortunately for us, the entire lunch was one disappointment after another. We were four in all and I can very seriously say that from four starters and four main courses only one of the eight dishes was in any way acceptable. The rest was simply very poorly prepared, unpalatable and unpleasant and was without a doubt the product of a very untalented and/or a disenchanted chef. It was not a matter of a dish being overcooked or mistakenly served underdone. Neither was it a case of a sauce or certain ingredients not being to our personal tastes. It was simply all very unrefined, uninspiring and very poorly put together food, of an overall low standard for any level of restaurant. Amazing how an establishment can suddenly slip down into rather abysmal depths.

But enough on this and onto much more pleasant circumstances. The Medina Restaurant offers without a doubt that perfect romantic setting for a stylish and cosy dinner for two. It is housed within a splendid, ancient Norman building, complete with vaulted ceilings, fireplaces and typical courtyard, offering tons of authentic charm. It is also one of those rare establishments in Malta where you are first stylishly invited into the separate bar area, where you are served aperitifs while you look at the menu, and only ushered to your table shortly before your food is ready to be served. A very civilised procedure indeed.

We were very warmly welcomed by the owner Noel Debono, a true gentleman if there ever was one. After ample consultation with Noel, we made our choice of food and wine and after a short pause we were smartly shown to our table.

The service throughout the meal was professional, attentive and fully committed, perfectly choreographed by three very seasoned gentlemen who knew exactly what they were doing. The increasingly rare added touches did not go amiss, such as the individual serving of bread with the use of thongs, the similar serving of lemon slices into our glasses after the water was served, the grating of parmesan cheese at table straight into my pasta – all little gestures which together make for that added level of overall service which in today’s normal dining world have all but disappeared.

As an amuse bouche we were served a totally delicious celeriac velouté with cream and topped with a cured clove of garlic. For starters we took a Tiroler speck with mozzarella di bufala and a tagliatelle with duck rillette. These were extremely different starters insofar as the former was a rather plain and straightforward dish bursting with uncomplicated wholesome goodness, simply emanating from the excellent quality of its ingredients, whereas the latter impressed through the intriguing complexity of its countless flavours. Both the speck and notably the mozzarella were of exceptional quality and were rightly unceremoniously served with a few berries, salad leaves and cherry tomatoes. On the other hand the tagliatelle were prepared with very generous quantities of tasty shredded duck, caramelised red onions and mango, all in a slightly sweetish, creamy beef velouté. This produced a rather unexpected and appealing combination of tastes, which married well with the perfectly cooked tagliatelle.

As for the main courses we selected a local pork dish and an Aberdeen Angus rib eye. The pork was a medley of fillet and belly, served in apple cider and pan juices, and was plated along with a variety of perfectly prepared, chunky yet elegant vegetables. Although both meats might have been cooked ever so slightly less, the sheer variety and goodness of the vegetables, coulises and garnishes made this a most enjoyable dish. The ribeye was of irreproachable quality and was also served with an impressive array of accompaniments, all ready plated.

Without wanting to enter into any polemics and keeping in mind that although the trend in now finally changing, it is obvious that many Maltese people are still exceptionally big eaters by most standards. Well, to our own personal weights and measures, we found the portions at the Medina Restaurant to be very much on the large side. Admittedly this is extremely good news for many of my compatriots, however we would have been more than satisfied with smaller portions both with the starters and more so with the mains. But then again this is a very subjective matter I suppose. And in any case, in our particular predicament with seven ravenous canines at home, nothing ever goes to waste. Not that I am advocating that any excess of such fine food should necessarily end up as dog food. But we are so accustomed to asking for any leftovers to be packed for us for our beloved pets, that this has now become somewhat of a ritual. So even in a case such as this when we left with perfectly edible pork and a slice of delicious rib eye, it is inevitable that it will be our dogs who will be enjoying this notable feast back home.

On the wine front, after some hesitation I decided to go for the Alexis Lichine Saint Emilion 2012. I was already quite familiar with this wine and rightly so did not have any tremendous expectation in its regard.

Following this copious banquet and in spite of some terribly scrumptiously sounding descriptions, we really didn’t have any space left for dessert. So we had what could possibly be considered as a three-in-one – a dessert, a coffee and an after dinner drink, all combined in one, in the form of a delicious Irish coffee. This was more than enough to stamp out any lingering greed or desire for anything more. So we paid both our bill and our respects and thoroughly enjoyed a walk around the enchanting, magnificent streets of Mdina by night, before heading home, doggy-bag in hand and stomachs full, pleased with our choice of restaurant this time round.

I must start off by making it crystal clear that if I sound in any way complimentary about Tarragon Restaurant it is only because the ownerMarvin Gauci is probably going to read this and I heard that he has some very vindictive lawyers…

So on Sunday morning my wife Maria was sitting around the kitchen table with the most horrific mud mask smeared across her face. And I had the wise idea of using this lunch at Tarragon as leverage, convincing her to allow me to post a pic of her on my timeline. Admittedly I have never been a very clear thinker first thing in the morning and this will be remembered as yet another indication of my poor judgement at this time of day.

Many of our FB friends, unaware that Maria had very astutely and successfully bargained her way to my posting of her picture, predicted that I would lose an arm and a leg to her rage once she found out. Little did they know that these limbs would in fact be lost when paying the bill at Tarragon Restaurant, that afternoon.

But to be totally honest, I cannot think of any better way of spending my money than a lovely meal at Tarragon. So it was money very well spent and naturally, as anywhere else, the bill simply reflected the extravagance of the diner and I must admit that this place somehow pushes my self-indulgence buttons more than anywhere else.

It might have become somewhat of a cliché, but I fully concur to the dining experience ideal and to its three main components – ambiance, food, service. I do not particularly enjoy having good food in what might look like a former garage painted in fancy colours, and certainly I do not enjoy good food served badly. So in my book a restaurant that ticks all three boxes definitely has a lot going for it.

Tarragon is without a doubt one of these. It is obvious that a lot of thought and probably even more money has been put into the place, its furnishings and décor. And perhaps more importantly, the establishment is suitably housed within a seafront building, overlooking the sea, the coast and St. Paul’s Islands across the bay, offering its patrons beautiful views while dining. I firmly feel that every grand restaurant should have a grand location, or at least a grand building, or some other redeeming feature to match its patrons’ overall expectations. Is seems logical to me that fine dining should be served in fine surroundings.

After the obligatory welcome greetings and hellos, we were whisked to our window table and immediately asked whether we desired an aperitif, even before we were seated. I hate sitting awkwardly at table upon arrival, twiddling my thumbs waiting to be served. Based on this and admittedly on my alcoholic tendencies, I find it so practical to be asked and served an aperitif immediately upon arrival. More so as you can enjoy your drink while you are looking at menus and wine lists, before you order. Once this is done, I find that the welcome drink slot is truly over, especially once you have ordered wine and water.

So while we were sipping our prosecco, we were handed over the ample literature by the now rather heavily bearded manager, Joshua. As he very aptly pointed out, Tarragon is now presenting a brand new menu – and what a truly exciting menu it is. They have retained the same concept of offering a main and a daily specials menu and I must say that the choice of sumptuous sounding and intriguing dishes is just spectacular.

I always prefer the matter of ordering to be a bilateral affair, between me and the maitre d’, whose job it is to advise, describe and recommend. So we had a good discussion with Joshua, who as always did a splendid job of directing us to our very difficult final choice. No mean task with so many delicious sounding items on their new menu .

For starters we went for a medley of different items comprising of oysters, scallops, smoked moulard duck breast carpaccio and several gin and tonic molecular spherifications. No I am not just making words up, this is Tarragon we are talking about remember! So if you would bear with me for a few moments, descriptions will follow soon…

I would strongly recommend diners here to follow suit, by selecting a bit of this and a bit of that for starters, This is a brilliant idea as it obviously allows you to sample so many different delicacies. And Tarragon makes this an even easier task as several starter items are very cleverly priced and served by the piece, as are oysters and scallops. A far cry from the rigidity of many restaurants which often refuse to modify the size of their dishes and servings, even when so requested. Moreover it is customary at this establishment to provide a useful and elegant table stand, where your various starters are conveniently placed.

The scallops were perfectly cooked and succulent. The oysters, which in typical Tarragon style were chilled at our table by the pouring of liquid nitrogen into the dish – were lovely and fresh. The duck carpaccio was very slightly chewy, but presented beautiful smokey and gamey flavours and was accompanied by a lovely contrasting sweet red currant and apple chutney with walnuts.

Now to the gin and tonic spherifications. Just in case there is anyone out there who is still unaware of molecular gastronomy, this is the culinary discipline dealing with the chemical transformation and reconstruction of food items, which was largely pioneered by a French gentleman (surprise!) named Hervé This. Tarragon has been mastering this art for some time now, especially with its distinctive reconstructed olive amuse bouche. Incidentally this has now been replaced by a tasty soup shooter and a luscious salmon paste on toast.

Not being able to resist an item with the words gin and tonic in it, we ordered four of these magnificently refreshing balls served on half a lemon. What a delight gently sliding them into your mouth while biting into the lemon and being treated to a burst of very subtle but distinctive gin and tonic flavours. As Joshua initially suggested, this makes the ultimate entremet and offers a great alternative to the long established and slightly monotonous sorbet. Incidentally the oysters too are each served with a lovely lemon spherification.

For mains we shared a john dory which was steamed in foil for perhaps just a few seconds too many. However Michael, who is Tarragon’s illustrious head chef, still did an excellent job to produce a delicate, tender fish which was expertly filleted at our table in grand gueridon pomp and ceremony. This was accompanied by roast potatoes and a lovely macedoine of very tasty steamed vegetables.

This grandiose meal was equally opulently matched by two bottles of the sensational Cloudy Bay sauvignon blanc. For the very unfortunately uninitiated, Cloudy Bay may be considered as the quintessential sauvignon blanc (a lot of) money can buy. This highly acclaimed wine from New Zealand offers a truly dazzling array of aromas and flavours to produce a uniquely textured, refreshing, intense yet elegant wine. In others words if you haven’t yet tried it then you really should. At € 49.90 a bottle it doesn’t come cheap. But then again nor do most of the magnificent things in life. It is not something many can afford to drink on a regular basis, but when you start your day by challenging your wife’s vanity, you can be sure that this will somehow end in your virtual ruination.

Upon being served our first bottle, I passed a small comment that it was not perfectly chilled. This prompted Joshua to fetch a large pitcher of liquid nitrogen which he aptly poured into our ice bucket. No only did this instantly do the trick, but it also resulted in our table being partially engulfed in swirling vapour, making us look like a couple of mad scientists.

I think that by now it has become pretty obvious that the service throughout the meal was simply second to none. This was mainly orchestrated by Joshua and Donald – the head waiter. Donald is another suave, skilled and seasoned pillar of Tarragon fame, whose charm and helpfulness never goes amiss.

Yet another sublime touch at Tarragon, as if they needed any more – is that they also provide diabetic desserts upon demand. By now my blood sugar levels were soaring at a rate only second to our wildly increasing bill. So some respite was much needed and this came in the form of an absolutely exquisite muffin which included fine strips of courgette, to make an exceedingly light and delicate dessert, accompanied by a sugar free vanilla ice cream. Maria had a crème brulée which according to her was equally exciting.

I must point out that our meal lasted several hours, hence the two bottles of wine. However we always like to finish off with something stronger, so Maria went for the good old calvados, while I fancied an armagnac. So Joshua pulled out an outstanding Montesquieu X.O. which was very hard to resist, in spite of the additional severe damage it inflicted both to my inflaming liver and to my shrinking pocket. Even I don’t have the audacity of stating here how many armagnacs I ended up having. Suffice to say that I made a very serious dent in the bottle by the time I staggered out of there.

But this was mainly the fault of my dear childhood friend Tonio Fenech and his stunning wife-cum-photographer Anna Fenech, who were sitting at the table right beside us throughout the lunch. Initially I understandably thought that Anna was Tonio’s daughter, based on looks, charm and vigour… So at the end of our meals we laughed and chatted on together for ages, every so often making a small gesture towards the bar for a refill. When we finally realised the time and our vastly deteriorated state, it was time to purchase a handsome stock of shares in this restaurant. I should probably own about half this establishment by now, but as I clearly mentioned in the beginning, this is not based on the restaurant’s pricing, but purely based on our wild excesses.

So that is how posting a picture on FB can lead to so much adventure, pleasure and expense. A quick word of advice to all the husbands out there – never, just never, try to get the upper hand on your wife. This invariable ends in you spending a little fortune one way or another. And a small tip for the ladies – if you want to be spoilt rotten, then get your husbands to take you to Tarragon. I’m sure you’ll easily find a way.

Colmar is a pretty little town just South of Strasbourg and also in the region of Alsace. Fortunately for us this is where our culinary holiday life finally settled down and came back to normality, without any further wild exploits such as we had experienced so far in this trip.

So we were happily reunited with our normal gourmand travel routine of good and interesting restaurants, with the occasional outstanding one for good measure.

Our one main meal in Colmar was perhaps not outstanding, but it was certainly very decent, of a good and very satisfying level and therefore most enjoyable. This was about as traditional a French restaurant as it gets. Your slightly elderly gentleman maitre d’ floating around instructing his two young novices, a distinct oldie woldie feel to the place and above all a good selection of some of the best and most renowned French classic dishes, all presented and religiously served the way they were meant to be. Not much novelty here perhaps, but then again cuisine is definitely not only about novelty, it is simply about eating well.

This seemingly fool proof formula of playing it safe paid out perfectly, as we had what may be considered by any standard a very good meal.

For starters we had a lovely grilled goat’s cheese salad with a variety of crispy greens, croutons and lardons, drizzled in a delicious tangy vinaigrette. Also beautifully wholesome traditional French fish soup, thick and unctuous and served with the obligatory garlic croutons, rouille and grated Emmental. In traditional French manner, when we had finished our soup one of the servers came to our table with the pot and served us more.

As for the mains we had coq au vin which was lovely and perfectly cooked and two fish dishes, a cod and a monkfish. The fish were also naturally served in northern French tradition and therefore came in rather thick, tasty sauces. This goes very well with both river and Atlantic fish. Both sauces had essential ingredients such as cream, mustard and chives and proved to be tasty yet delicate and a very appropriate way of eating such types of fish on a cold wintery evening.

As for wine we went for a local pinot noir which, reminiscent of Burgundy reds, was slightly spicy and velvety and nicely textured.

From a service point of view all was perfectly orchestrated and possibly what today’s diners have come to expect. A warm and welcoming maitre d’ who made sure we were comfortable, made us feel welcome, explained the menu, made his recommendations, replied to our questions in a human non-robotic manner and took our order. He then returned discreetly after each course to check up on us and finally charmingly bid us farewell on our way out. He was friendly but cautious and polite and never overbearing.

He in turn was seconded by two silent servers who quietly, carefully and methodically went through all the required motions to perfection and minute detail, throughout the meal.

From my point of view both functions are important when dining out. The warm welcoming factor, as well as the to-the-point efficiency of competent service. At this establishment they had worked out this balance to a tee.

We love a good couscous as well as North African cuisine in general. So we had been meaning to try out this Moroccan restaurant in Qui si Sana for some time.

The place is not typical of a Moroccan restaurant insofar as they seem to have purposely steered clear of the obvious and somewhat expected traditional colourful décor. This has produced a rather bare ambiance with the exception of one large and superfluous TV, which admittedly was mainly showing clips of what distinctly looked like Morocco and thankfully had its sound turned off.

We were very warmly welcomed and served throughout the evening by two keen, courteous and friendly lads, whose positive and helpful attitude largely compensated for a series of unintentional and sometimes humorous hiccups in the service. This came in sharp contrast to the many servers we encountered abroad during our recent trip, who in their majority served in a perfectly precise and efficient, quasi-robotic manner, but who were largely devoid of any human warmth or charm. Many cultural stereotypes come to mind…

We were four at table and decided on a selection of mixed starters to share, followed by a lamb couscous, a vegetarian couscous, a lamb tagine and chicken breast skewers.

The starters were interesting and varied and included a selection of salads, pastries, hummus and diced liver which were pleasant and overall satisfactory. Portions were also very generous to the extent that we chose not to finish them all, thus leaving space for the mains. The staff very astutely only removed the empty dishes and left the others on our table to accompany our mains. This was good thinking on their part.

The grain of my couscous, which may be considered the dish’s main component, was simply cooked to perfection. It was light, fluffy and of a perfect texture. Similarly the lamb which accompanied the couscous, as well as the one in the tagine, was perfectly steamed, extremely tender and had that lovely luscious fatty taste that only lamb can produce. The vegetables were served very chunky, as is customary with couscous. However both couscous dishes might have been a bit more tasty and it seems that the cooking sauces which are added to the dish could have used a bit more seasoning or were perhaps too watered down. Realising that we love harisa, one of the servers kindly suggested that our couscous be cooked already spicy, to which we very much agreed, however this was not the case. The chicken skewers were tender and tasty, although they were not skewers.

Morocco produces some very acceptable red and rosé wines. Actually the rosé is more of a very pale blush type rosé, which they call vin gris. Although Moroccan wines were mysteriously absent on the wine list, when inquiring we were informed that they were in fact available. So we went for a red Domaine Toulal which did slightly lack body, but was nevertheless quite pleasant.

Much to our surprise and delight, we were offered free desserts and tea and may I state that this was in no way offered to us to appease any form of complaint from our side, but seemingly just out of traditional Moroccan hospitality. Here again we couldn’t help comparing this generous gesture to our very recent countless restaurant meals abroad, where absolutely nothing is ever offered for free to customers. Well not unless you have some massive dispute with them…

The baklava traditional pastry desserts were nice and the mint tea was lovely. As expected, it was aptly poured from high above, both to show off but also to aerate the tea so as to release its full flavour. Luckily the pastries were simply placed on our table smile emoticon

We found pricing to be very reasonable, offering the diner good value for money, especially in view of their large portion sizes and ample freebies.

To sum it all up, I would say that visibly there are various small improvements which would only add to the dining experience in this restaurant, both in terms of food and notably in service. However we still had an enjoyable evening and after all it’s not like there is a couscous joint at every street corner in Malta. So next time we feel like one we would gladly return.

Having been subjected to so much physical and psychological abuse, while simply in the innocent search of a good meal, our sense of gratification once we had this great dinner, was hard to imagine.

The entire meal was truly a treat, all very cleverly and delicately prepared by a very talented chef indeed. For starters we had warm foie gras on brown bread, perfectly seasoned and served with a selection of dried figs, apricots and raisins, drizzled in a dark intense coulis, as well as a mushroom and cheese tartlet very cleverly served with a fresh vegetable macédoine in its own bouillon on the side. All were very originally prepared, extremely tasty and simply a delight to eat.

This was followed by a magret de canard, scallop and king prawn skewers and a veal steak (there were 3 of us eating). All were cooked to perfection, were served in complex but perfectly balanced sauces and were accompanied by delicious vegetables prepared in very interesting and tasty ways. These included Brussels sprouts with a touch of herbal oil, glazed honey and sesame carrots and a butternut purée. We had a selection of desserts which also proved to be both original and sumptuous including a café gourmand which is an expresso coffee accompanied by a selection of several tiny, bite sized desserts. This has been a very popular dessert option in France for many years now and makes perfect sense as it allows you to sample different desserts. We chose a good old can-never-go-wrong Chablis to accompany the meal. So very thankfully after such a saga this restaurant did prove to be a true delight and our efforts and perseverance were finally rewarded.

If I may make a few comparisons with the restaurant scene in Malta, I would say that in recent times we have eaten at several establishes in Malta which are imitating this style of cuisine. Very original dishes, ingredients, tastes and sometimes even unlikely combinations of all these factors are put to play. Chefs are hard at work attempting to produce their own original creations highlighting their talent and dedication to their profession. However I must say that on many an occasion we have found very simply that originality is given precedence over goodness. Some ingredients are quite unexpected but they add nothing to the dish. Some combinations are truly original but they are bland or unbalanced. Sauces are prepared differently but do not perfectly match their accompaniment. Dishes are delicate and refined but relatively tasteless.

Some chefs are over ambitious, get carried away, or are just trying too hard. Some are locked in their own subjective and imaginary world with visions of grandeur, while in reality they are dishing out rather uninspiring creations. I love originality and creativity but only if it results in an improved version of its predecessor. Unless you are truly capable of making an old favorite dish even better than it already was, then leave it alone. If you do not really have that very rare talent of mixing some very unlikely ingredients to produce a delightful and perfectly tasty original dish, then stick to what you know. In recent times we have had so many meals studded with these wonderfully described dishes made out of the most exciting ingredients, only to be served with bland, far from delicious, albeit original dishes.

The chef at this restaurant in Strasbourg on the other hand, quite simply had that rare talent and skill, that additional bit of flair and panache, to produce truly great dishes with perfectly pleasing and appropriately intense flavours.

To end off our Strasbourg story, after this lovely meal we were expressly offered a drink on the house as a kind gesture of apology for the incident the night before. And before everyone starts screaming abuse at this seemingly petty and insignificant gesture, I have to point out yet again that this is not Malta. In France it certainly is not the rule of the day to offer a free drink to your customers. On the contrary this virtually never happens at all. And while on the subject you may have also noticed that this custom is now on the decline in Malta too. So rather than taking offence at this we were quite appreciative, knowing that in their eyes this was quite a rare treat. Another factor to keep in mind is that based on one of their recommendations we opted for three glasses of champagne, which would normally amount to a selling price of close to €30. So I think that even if one had to look at the issue purely in monetary terms, then we were quite handsomely rewarded.

Finally before we left, I was invited into the kitchen where the chef patron wanted to have a last word with me before we left. As he was right in the middle of service and extremely busy, he was unable to come to our table himself. He was a relatively young, down to earth, smiling person who genuinely wanted to make sure that an overall satisfactory outcome was achieved between us. He again apologised profusely for the day before, explained to me how they were all doing their very best, but that naturally everyone makes mistakes from time to time.

Well what more can I say to what happened here. The power of social media, I suppose. In all probability in the past such a complaint would have fallen on deaf ears and no real recourse was available for the customer. How times have changed!

But believe it or not I can still pull one last twist out of this story… The huge irony of it all is that by the time we got back to the hotel that night, I was by then suffering the symptoms of fully blown food poisoning from the night before, which had become increasing worse throughout the day and evening. I had one of the worse nights of my life and learned to count up to 18 – yes 18! If you see what I mean…

All this came with stomach-wrenching craps, pain, nausea and headaches, leaving me very weak and shaking. Did I consider raising social media hell all over again with the seafood restaurant, under whose hands we really and truly suffered much more than with the other one? Well of course I did and in all honesty and hindsight they deserved this treatment infinitely more than the other. But as you might have guessed we decided that we had already been through enough furore to last us many many days, and just let it go.

So the irony of the situation was that in spite of having paid top dollar for a meal which nearly killed us, and having just experienced how effective social media is when you truly need it, we did absolutely nothing to remedy this much more serious situation.

That night while I sat doing my painful repetitive business, tablet in hand, in a fair and equitable gesture of reconciliation, I removed all negative posts against one restaurant, while I angrily cursed the other. Oops sorry, excuse me, but I’ve got to go again!

At this stage it might be useful to point out that very fortunately for us we do not usually encounter so many problems while traveling abroad and certainly do not incite or relish any of these incidents in any way. On the contrary, similarly to most normal people we are happiest when all goes to plan without any hassle, problem or extraordinary incident.

This trip however did certainly start off on the wrong foot, especially insofar as our dining experiences are concerned. I simply put it all down to bad luck and just a matter of several unfortunate circumstances. I am definitely not suggesting any conclusion other than this.

It just happened that our first highly anticipated gastronomic evening in Strasbourg turned out to be a terrifying ordeal when we were first forbidden entry into one restaurant and then poisoned in another!

After all these traumatic experiences you would instinctively want to forget the past and move on, and above all look forward to the future and what a new day may bring. But try to imagine our predicament. We woke up to the looming prospect of returning to a restaurant were we were rudely locked outside, which we exposed to the world in social media, where we denounced the staff, angered the chef patron and naively accepted to return enabling them, in their own words, ‘to make it up to us’!

You might be asking the same question that we were throughout that entire second day in Strasbourg – wasn’t being poisoned in one restaurant enough? If the first restaurant could do it so effectively without even trying, imagine how good this second one could be when doing it with great purpose and intent!

So needless to say we had very mixed feelings about my wise judgement the night before to return there. Would we be treated in a friendly or hostile manner? Would this attempt at reconciliation end up in some massive argument? Would the poisoning be at least quick and painless? I desperately suppressed visions of a video I had seen a few years ago called disgusting chefs caught on camera…

I’m not quite sure what fueled our determination to retain our reservation, but in spite of our very dubious feelings as well as our ever deteriorating physical condition, we probably felt that things couldn’t really get much worse. I also felt that under the circumstances we really couldn’t bail out at the last minute after having accepted their ample apologies. So that evening we walked rather gingerly to the rude restaurant, really not quite sure what to expect.

When we got there and entered, through an easily opening door, may I add – we were greeted by the same waitress from the night before. She was visibly uneasy and doing her best to act normally. We were shown to what looked like their best table, took off our coats and asked where we could put them. In a snappy manner she indicated that we had just passed in front of the coat stand and then must have realised that she was out of order and came forward to take our coats herself.

I seriously began asking myself why on Earth we had decided to come back here, really not in the mood of being served by a rude waitress the day after she literally left us out in the cold. But in the end very thankfully our patience and perseverance paid off, as in time we fully realised that her approach was not out of arrogance or spite, but simply out of an inherent lack of people skills. She went about her business serving everyone in the same super efficient manner but with a marked lack of charm and warmth. Her colleague too could be easily described in a similar manner, although admittedly of a slightly friendlier disposition.

To put the whole situation in context, this is Strasbourg, a big city in eastern France, which offers many attractions of which spectacular hospitality is not one. People do their job very quickly and efficiently and often do not feel that dishing out charm and making friends with customers is part of their job description. Us Maltese on the other hand are probably at the very other end of the spectrum in this regard. When dining out particularly, we often chat and gossip aimlessly with the staff as if we were long-time buddies. We find it perfectly acceptable for a server to ask us personal and even somewhat delicate questions, because often this is the order of the day. In many places such as Strasbourg this would be considered much ruder than leaving clients alone and getting on with your business.

So having sat there and observed the girls at work, I soon started to see the other side of the story. Clients walked in and out of this busy little restaurant at leisure, were greeted by a very curt ‘bonsoir you may sit there’ and without much fuss everyone went on their business. Is this too clinical an approach to catering even in a place such as Strasbourg? Probably yes and admittedly in most other restaurants we were met with a bit more warmth, sometimes visibly forced and apparently not so genuine, but at least some form of effort was made. Should people working in catering and the entire hospitality industry be adept in social skills and customer care no matter where the place may be? My reply would again be yes, otherwise if this is not for them they should work in a different industry. If this restaurant like so many others abroad, trains its servers to get along with their work very efficiently but with no human rapport with its clients necessary, then shouldn’t it also employ a maitre d’? Definitely yes. And my last question in this series which requires no answer – was it wrong to leave us standing outside when we were visibly trying to get in, especially if they were aware that the door often gets stuck?

In today’s world where we speak not of a meal but of an overall dining experience it is more than obvious that the art of handling customers should be a priority in any restaurant’s agenda.

But anyway enough of this. The girls did warm up to us a bit during the meal and the visible awkwardness did somewhat abate and above all we finally and most gratifyingly had our first truly excellent and faultless meal of the trip!

After the shocking experience of having been quite simply and literally left out in the cold, we were determined more than ever before to finally treat ourselves to a no less than splendid meal. So we impulsively decided to go the whole hog and to bestow upon ourselves a lovely dinner in a grand looking seafood restaurant which we passed by earlier on, just next to our hotel. So we headed there with a vengeance, our taste buds and tummies tingling in anticipation and above all with the distinct intention of using this self-indulging exercise as palliative therapy for our recent nightmare.

This is one of those fancy looking joints with large gilded menu stands outside and live crabs and lobsters happily hobbling around in the front vitrine, beckoning you inside with their jerky claws, totally oblivious of their forthcoming fate in the days to come.

We started off with a glass of champagne, followed by a good bottle of Pouilly Fuissé and ordered the works, culminating in a grand platter of mixed shellfish for two, priced at €90. We sat there waiting for that soothing feeling of relief that we all so much crave when spoiling ourselves rotten after a traumatic experience. However to our great dismay, this feeling never came.

Much to our distress, our grand crustacean-waving seafood restaurant turned out to be a bit of a sham. I would very confidently say that the entire experience left a lot to be desired. The service was mediocre, the overall feel was far from one of opulence and class, there was very audible and frequent shouting coming from the kitchen and worst thing of all the food was several grades lower than anticipated.

We are very keen on all seafood including oysters. However I believe that if there is one type of food which must be perfectly fresh and of impeccable quality, failing which it quickly degenerates from excellent to disgusting – it must be seafood. This was perhaps one of those rare occasions were the quality was somewhere in the middle. It was ‘ok’ and most of the many items tasted pretty good. There were others however which lacked the telltale signs of freshness and naturally invigorating sea odours and flavours. Not quite bad or foul tasting and not quite off-putting enough to send back. Famous last words…

The truth of the matter was that seemingly the only grand factor of this establishment was their pricing, and grandiose it truly was. This was amply and unambiguously confirmed later on that night and more so the day after, by the countless frantic dashes to the bathroom and the subsequent requirement of ingesting several Rennie’s and a couple of Gavescon’s for good measure, to try and get some sleep. But we’ll come to that a little bit later…

Meanwhile and still unaware of the full consequences of our meal at the seafood restaurant, we were even more upset at the final outcome of the evening, having ended up paying a little fortune for a big disappointment. Our surreal experiences that evening infuriated me to the extent of taking some form of action. Sitting in our hotel room that night reminiscing about the evening’s major mishaps and before the main digestive onslaught which might have directed my rage elsewhere, I decided to research the first rude restaurant. Feeling totally mistreated, I posted an account of the horrific manner we were treated both on the restaurant’s Facebook page as well as on Tripadvisor. This is not at all something I would normally do, or for that matter something I have ever actually done, but on this occasion I really couldn’t retain so much disappointment bottled up inside me.

Much to my surprise within minutes the restaurant posted back on their FB page making a full blown apology for this unfortunate incident. They also took the initiative of mentioning that they would be happy to offer us some sort of commercial gesture to make up for our negative experience that evening.

I posted back making it clear that I was not after any freebies but simply after a good meal. They claimed that the waitress hadn’t seen us and that the door was unlocked but often gets stuck. All rather lame excuses I must add, however their overall tone was very much one of apology and reconciliation. So my final word was that their apology was accepted and that we will make another attempt at dining at their establishment the day after.

Meanwhile while all of this was happening, the effects of our seafood meal were starting to unfold in a very nasty and obvious manner. It suffices to say that tablet in hand many of my posts were not made in the bedroom per se but in the adjoining little room… Oh my, imagine arguing about the rude treatment at one restaurant while you are suffering the physical consequences of eating in another. What had we done to deserve this? Did we really need to travel so far and pay so much money to contract food poisoning when I can easily think of so many places so much closer to home smile emoticon

Before I continue any further, I must start off by saying that mainly based on my many years of residence in France, I am totally bias towards French cuisine and to all that is French which is even remotely edible and drinkable. The impressively extensive specialities both in the form of classic as well as regional dishes, the fresh produce in the form of meats, fish and seafood, the 500-odd cheeses and of course and above all the range of outstanding wines – all pure culinary bliss. It should suffice to say that words such as cuisine, gastronomy and restaurant are all derived from French.

So after many days of culinary limbo, gastronomic purgatory and holiday hell, and in spite of the many interesting and beautiful places we had visited, we were more than longing to cross into France, to finally have the first and by now well deserved, excellent meal of hopefully many more to come.

We therefore hastened our arrival in Strasbourg, ensuring that we would be well in time for dinner after locating and settling in at our central hotel. So we set off early in the general direction of La Petite France – the stunningly pretty central quarter where many of the restaurants may be found.

And many restaurants we did indeed find. The number of dining establishments alone, all lined up next to each other, one in every street corner and several in between, already made a very clear statement on the importance of food. This is typical of all French cities and starkly contrasts the cities we had just visited in Germany, where the concentration of eateries pales in comparison.

Now for those who are not too familiar with Alsace, this is the easternmost region in France lying directly on the German border and actually having been passed successively between France and Germany several times in its history. Although today Alsace is resoundingly French, the German influence there is still very evident, not least in their cuisine.

Their main traditional dish is in fact choucroute – which is pure and simply sauerkraut in French! Now I have had many a lovely choucroute à l’alsacienne in the past, which in spite of its Germanic ancestry, has been largely exposed to massive French improvement. But after having been force fed plain sauerkraut for days on end until it was virtually coming out of our ears, there was no way on Earth that we felt even remotely tempted. After all, even in Alsace the majority of restaurants sported classic French fare in all its glory, with all of the delicious old favorites on offer.

Although we were spoilt for choice we quickly decided on a small, intimate and rather chic looking establishment. It only offered an extremely limited menu, which is already not a bad thing in itself, plus it also featured many of our favourites such as foie gras, oysters, confit de canard, tournedos… all pure bliss and music to our ears and senses. The menu itself foretold stories of grandeur and included hints of gastronomic mastery.

At this point it is opportune to remind you that this is eastern France in January and the temperature outside was exactly one degree Celsius. So without further ado we tried to get into the restaurant. However although we could see people inside, the door seemed to be locked. After several failed attempts to get in, one of the waitresses finally came and opened the door, only to inform us very curtly that they opened at seven, which was exactly in five minutes time!

I suppressed my initial reaction of giving her a good piece of my mind and quickly forced myself into ‘don’t let this little incident spoil your entire evening’ mode. So I took a deep breath, rose above it and managed to let it go. I proceeded to politely ask her to keep a table for us and rather awkwardly told her that we would see her again in exactly five minutes.

So we marched around the block several times desperately trying to stave away the otherwise inevitable hypothermia, while looking constantly at our watches. These were amongst the longest five minutes I have ever had the misfortune to endure. When they finally passed, with an extra three or four minutes for good measure, as we were finally approaching the restaurant we saw another couple entering before us. Oh great, we thought, they must therefore surely be open now. However when we got to the door just moments after, this was still locked and we were once again unable to enter.

After waiting politely for the door to be opened for us, I finally caught the attention of the same waitress inside, however incredulously rather than coming to open the door for us, she simply ignored us and went off to serve the couple who had just been let in.

Unable to even believe that this was really happening and expecting someone to come rushing to the door at any moment with an astounding explanation and an even more fitting apology, we actually lingered at the door a good while longer. But no, to our ghastly horror we were actually left there like miserable beggars – hungry, undesired and cold!

We finally turned away, in total disbelief and silently headed away, anywhere, as far as possible, desperately in search of some solace in the form of a good meal.