The Nostalgia of Tmun 🦐

This is perhaps one of the most obscure restaurant experiences you will ever read by me. And before you go off on some weird tangent, my experiences at Tmun have always been a culinary cavern of creativity, fusion (done the right way) and that feeling of a big warm hug–although I will admit that the latter experience is a pure personal personification of my past; more specifically, that warm hug of my Nanna’s food. 

A far stretch, I know, to say that the Michelin Mentioned Gozo restaurant reminds me of my granny’s food, I know, I know. But… you didn’t know her; and if you did, you might still not have the same reaction as I did. I felt nostalgia, I felt playfulness, I felt care when eating Chef Paul Buttigieg’s menus; on multiple occasions.

One experience stood out boldly though. I’ll elaborate on that in about 3 minutes, depending on how fast y’all read. 

Tmun is situated in the harbour area of Mġarr on our sister island of Gozo–think of her as the greener, more chilled out sister. The restaurant is tucked between boathouses, amidst the beached boats rugged in for repairs, shelter or typical Maltese/Gozitan attitude of, uwija, mhux xorta [whatever, it’ll work kinda feeling, you may at time experience on these islands]. Can’t say this is my favourite location for a restaurant, that would be a disservice to restaurants with spectacular views and ambience - the whole point of bajtra is to be honest and fair. Hoooowever… from a cultural characteristic point of view, I mean… there’s the Gozo Channel Ferry Service running, glimpses of Comino and Malta to-and-from the restaurant, a charming local luzzu or two perched up beside you, and a stunning meal, service and experience ahead… so maybe again, this is just me. 

If you’re visiting in the summer or warmer months, sit closer to the windows for that seldom, yet heavenly wisp of sea breeze, as the wine goes to your head, you’ll want some sweet-oxygen-relief. But if you’re visiting Gozo in her quieter months, where the true tar-relax vibes are activated, take the table by the kitchen, it may be a bit toastier than the other tables, but by golly do you get to watch a wonderful show. 

Chef Paul and his small Tmun kitchen brigade waltz around the kitchen preparing what I think is one of Malta & Gozo’s most creative menus, both in concept and execution. As a rule, money is never discussed in a Kristina Cassar Dowling piece, mainly because money is a construct that is relative to every spender, and in our fast-paced world; value is even harder to define based on a myriad of reasons; however, here on bajtra, when it’s necessary we will discuss price tags. This is one situation where the price should be discussed. 

What I find most interesting about Tmun Restaurant’s Sharing Menu is this: it’s priced per couple. 

Baffling, but smart. When writing this, the prices were as follows, per couple, remember that’s for 2 people… 7 plates €110; 9 plates €135; 12 plates €170 (Per Couple). It’s one plate per dish of course, the kitchen’s not lost their mind; but imagine tasting 7 fabulous (Michelin-rated) dishes for €55 per person. Not many places you can do that quite honestly.

But how’s the food? That’s what you’re thinking right…

Heading up to Gozo is always a treat, I visit quite often and always make sure to pay my industry friends a visit, Paul is a common stop. I’ve visited in different seasons, tried some winter items, some mid-season dishes and never really had any negative thoughts about my time at Tmun quite genuinely. One moment however stood out so gracefully in my mind, it’s that bold experience I mentioned earlier… and there I was, sunkissed from a morning at Ramla Bay, sitting out by the (in)famous luzzu. 

So how does my gran fit into this puzzle? Well, it’s complex… hear me out… Chef Paul’s unique quality in his cooking is his Nikkei influence, where Peruvian and Japanese flavour and technique come together to harmonise as one dish. Chef Paul adds his Gozitan flair for a deeper evolution. My Nanna was fairly preoccupied with Asian flavour, and often created local dishes that weren’t quite too far from this fusion and food experimentation. 

In no way did her technique, creativity or depth of flavour live up to chef status, but that particular Summer Menu prepared by Chef Paul took me back to a Sliema townhouse where prawn, tuna and monkfish were cooked on the weekly, and I, the great benefactor of their sacrifice. Chef Paul’s flavours brought me to tears, right there, at the table, as I tried his Prawn Tartare. 

Let’s me explain… something happens to me when the perfect flavour combination strikes. I close my eyes, I savour, I understand. My ears twitch, my head dips into my shoulders and my eyes get tighter. Fireworks. Zapping in your mouth with umami, acidity, salt, texture, bitterness, sweetness–these are the triggers for me. Might need a cigarette after. 

Chef Paul’s Prawn Tartare was creamy but not so much that the texture is gone. It had bite, it had chew and of course it was buttery and sweet because #MaltaDBest. So the mouthfeel is already on point and hitting those notes of salinity and sweetness… but as the bitterness of the lemon drags in, firmly clinging to the smoothness of the EVOO, the dish develops and builds character. 

And just because the rosy goddesses of the Mediterranean may not be enough luxury for you, perhaps the acidic pop of vinegary caviar and the earthy creative insert of strawberries would spin this into a masterpiece. I’m a sucker for gamberi rossi–preferably raw, preferably Chef Paul’s (and some other wonderful Chefs’ renditions too). 

There were other nuances that I felt resembled the essence of my grandmother’s kitchen (aka the place where I learned most of what I know, the place where the passion for food took action, and the place where some of my warmest memories came to life), and not only with the fish-based dishes. I remember this one dish where a beautiful brioche crumb: buttery and lemony to resemble cake, was topped with pork rillettes, dates and the name sake of the dish, the Foie Gras Parfait. 

One bite here took you to Paris, where texture and comfort were the biggest take-aways. A similar depth of textural flavour can be seen with Chef Paul’s Fig Tart, another classic on the menu that pairs a thick, lush and moreish gorgonzola cream with a 10 year old balsamic pearls for texture and acidity, salty and textural speck with crunches from the walnut and sweetness from the fig. Can’t even make this up that my childhood salad was a very simplified version of these flavour combos. I cried again.