The Harbour Club Tasting Experience
Updated: Jul 24
I’d been looking forward to this one for a while. Here I’ll say it… I think that The Harbour Club is one of the most well-rounded restaurants that will tick so many boxes for so many types of clientele. There’s the captivating view, there’s the attentive service, and of course… the reason we all show up… there’s the food. The ambience at The Harbour Club is so welcoming, I can’t really imagine who wouldn’t enjoy their experience there. There’s always something that makes me think, hmm that could be looked at; and of course there’s no one restaurant that is perfect, but sometimes it’s close enough.
Understanding what type of Chef The Harbour Club’s David Buttigieg is, is understanding what kind of meal you should expect. Chef David Buttigieg utilises pretty much every part of every ingredient he sources. From carrot tops used for a pesto in the amuse bouche or squash peel used as a glaze in the summer menu’s pork dish, wasting food means wasting flavour. And that’s how we should think about food. Another respectable aspect of Chef Buttigieg’s cooking is his lack of extra. There’s no caviar and truffle on the menu. A humble ingredient is allowed the chance to stand alone and be experienced in its full nakedness, without need for embellishment.
Luca welcomed us and took us to our table. We started our experience with two cocktails; a classic Margarita; salted rim, tequila, triple sec and lime: refreshing and balanced. And a mocktail called Spicy Lucy which I thought would be a nice palate challenge integrating the exotic roots hinted at on the menu; but alas, all I could taste was ginger beer (which I quite heavily dislike). I tried it with the snacks, but it was quite a no all the way through.
This was the only down in the gastronomical experience at The Harbour Club.
As the glistening honey-kissed limestone bastions of the Three Cities begin to blend with the shadows of the setting sun; our snacks from the kitchen arrive; and as usual my eyes widen and my ears perk up, tuning in attentively to what creative interpretations I’ll be trying first.
Our journey began with the sharp umami of the Parmigiano ice-cream that should be boxed and sold (at least just to me) and the gazpacho; refreshing, thick and creamy with the rich olive oil adding so much depth in flavour and texture.
And as our pupils rapidly bounced to the next pretty thing on display; the large wooden box we’d been eyeing all evening appeared at our table: ahhh… it’s a bread bin. Ohhhh… focaccia. Mmmm… sourdough. Isma Chef; add some more bread options, maybe breadsticks. Some of the most impactful bread courses I’ve witnessed were bold in display, flavour and variety (like 6-7 breads [wtf]). Your bread was delicious; let’s get that straight. I just thought the box was more impactful than its contents.
The lactic notes in the sourdough and the Pizza Hut breadstick vibes of the focaccia lapped up the deliciously sour carrot top pesto that zinged and zapped so perfectly; waking up the palate for the moreish cracker-&-tuna-dip-like bite garnished with fried capers that gave off a fabulous salinity counteracted with a simple zest of lemon for that needed spark.
You’ll notice that this menu critique offers many references to brand flavours, I just mentioned Pizza Hut; and I don’t refer to that as a bad thing; I refer to it as a memory of recognisability, and that’s a good thing. The next course does the same (and it made me cry a little, in sheer gratitude).
A glass of 2025 Camilleri Wines’ Laurenti paired gracefully with the opening course named Old Theatre Street. This Vermentino was dry with high acidity responding well with the staple fish crudo; tonight dentex; as well as the accompanying plates that Chef prepared for us featuring prime prized ingredients that, in bajtra’s eyes, are the true meaning of ‘luxury’ ingredients: dentex cheeks and dentex collar. Same dentex in the crudo… just used respectfully and with intention.
The crudo was delicate and tender, dressed in a citrus dashi that marries with a viscous fig leaf oil that tastes like fig trees smell just when they're about to come into season. The ponzu dressed melon plays with the fish in a Parma Ham and Melon kinda way that feels nostalgic yet reinterpreted into something local and hella delicious. Sprigs of sea asparagus brightening with touches of salinity.
How lucky to be served a fish cheek, and such a chunky one at that. Tender as expected and perhaps the perfect bite of a fresh, and properly handled, fish. Served atop of local green tomatoes, thinly sliced and graced with my favourite liquid on Maltese shores… tomato water. Simple and delicious and it reminded me of what tuna ftira filling should taste like.
But how much luckier to be served a fish collar? Better yet a fried-chicken style fish collar (insert blatant conglomerate Colonel reference here). Who? Who? Doesn’t love that crispy fried, aromatic, crunch bite, fragrant flavour? Who? Tell me?
Nobody. Because it’s addictively good. And this dentex collar with some magic pine nut sauce… madonna. Too good, I near sucked off the bone like I do on an ill-planned Hot Wings fall from grace. All the while I’m thinking “it’s gonna be hard to top this Chef”.
Next we’re going to Republic Street; an aptly named dish since it could be considered the principle dish of the night, even able to top the collar. The prawn risotto.
Some of you might be thinking, how predictable, your favourite ingredient presents your favourite dish. Talk about obvious.
True, granted. But honestly… it was delicious not because of the prawns, but mostly because of flavour pairings; and to be even more honest; I think these were Size 1, I think Size 2 are the ultimate of the ingredient’s representation.
The risotto was built with a prawn bisque where caramel notes and nuttiness begin. But there’s always an inherent sweetness. It’s finished with a Parmigiano butter that adds salinity, more nuttiness and some more fat to the dish. That is already magnificent but it’s not the end of the magic.
The nonetheless delicious Size 1 rossi were garnished with a coriander sprout and a beautiful scoop of finger lime caviar; not a first for me so the excitement and expectation was real. A chive oil to finish the dish.
And with one spoonful, we went from a rich Italian risotto to a Southeastern Asian delicacy. This was the tax-xewk moment. You know it’s true when First Bite Syndrome hits ya.
And we’ll follow it with, as sommelier Lewis described it; a bubblegum aroma-forward 2023 Hospices de Beaujeu Morgon Cuvee Judith Jonchiere. Ohhh… a Beaujolais, my first love affair with wine. And this one, deliciously jammy but light enough to host the prawn dish and hold space for the following course titled South Street.
The up to 14 day aged pepper tuna topped with a dill-forward stubble hit the same franchise consistency akin to a really good burger… the baby gem lettuce salad somehow making this analogy stick a little harder.
The salad was composed of thinly sliced nectarines for sweetness, anchovy for saltiness (and nuttiness, and umami, and richness), mint for a spot of freshness and crunch from the baby gem lettuce – pure delicious. So delicious I could barely eat it mindfully without just gobbling it down.
But I restrained myself and paired it with the tuna for a palate of herbal, saline and natural umami. I’m glad I held back and appreciated this moment. I see why this is a restaurant favourite.
The last savoury trip is to Strait Street where a little piggy and a summer squash created something beautiful. Just pork and squash. With a side of mustard grain and chive Ta’ Gużman Organic Farm potatoes. Yum.
Let’s start with the summer squash. The pickled version was humble and intentional, the caramalised ring, grainy, sweet and bitter and the purée earthy and so homey. Utilised in so many ways but never repetitive or boring.
Pork fillet, sous vide and finished in a pan with what I would imagine is copious amounts of butter tasted like cinema popcorn. The pork is curated from feed to finish and the flavour here is profound. Tender and pink as pork fillet should be, it gathers the umami rich jus for another jaw-clenching moment where I know squash peel was used to create a glistening sticky sauce.
The other pork component on the dish was a pulled pork whose delicious aromatic savouriness hoaxed me into believing I’d pull through the meat sweats, the red wine reaching my forehead and the 37℃ ambient temperature at now 9:30 pm; one more savoury bite and I’d be defeated — the non-savoury stomach though… still open.
A pre-dessert of yoghurt and cucumber foam, like a raita with air added as an ingredient whose purpose is to shape your palate for the black amazake sorbet; which is essentially a tangy, umami koji-fermented drink turned into a quenelle of icy nuttiness.
And for the last street-named dish of the night; St John’s, paying homage to Caravaggio’s Doubting Thomas nodding at the concept that experiencing this dessert is believing. A vegan coconut mousse crowning a delicious pineapple and mint compote at the centre where an almond cake roots it all. Topped with almond ice-cream and a coconut tuile; this nutty treat is the perfect way to end the summer menu. This here was a Ferrero Raffaello who took a trip to the Caribbean for funsies.
But of course, you don’t leave without petit fours; and as charming Maria suggested we ate the sweet and sour pâte de fruit and the almond financier as one bite. Because if her petit four playfulness is anything as acruate as her attention to customer satisfaction; we’ll take her advice. Fun. Everything at The Harbour Club was fun.
