MALTE Galera — Restaurant in A Coruña

How is it worth it? I don’t understand the high rating. Maybe we caught a bad night (the barman/waiter was on his own) but it was only a glorified burger joint at best. The burgers were nice but very small and the fries were paltry too. The Quesada’s were soggy and lifeless. No sauces, salt or vinegar. No offer of water or checking our meal was okay. The barman was very brusk said he said he spoke no English, but then did. He seemed rushed and inattentive. The selection of beers were numerous but no offer to help choose was offered. The furniture was just hard bar stools and cramped. It was bizarre when trip advisor gives it such a high score. Hummm… What a disappointing evening. I won’t trust TA again. Other restaurants and bars nearby looked much better. For a family of four hoping for a special evening it...

'Interesting' was the word we repeated over and over again as each dish came to our table. The waiter was very friendly and the kitchen is open so you can see the chef directly as he cooks. We seemed to be the only customers eating actual food while the rest were drinking, so the chef was essentially cooking our ordered dishes one by one. Each dish was really unique, exactly what we wanted amidst the repetitive seafood and octopus and other fried stuffs we'd been eating so far in A Coruña. 5/5 for the uniqueness, special and creative Asian fusion dishes, good service, and...

Una experiencia para el olvido (y para rezar que nadie más la repita)

Fui a cenar a MALTE con cierta ilusión… y salí con el estómago revuelto, el paladar insultado y la firme convicción de que alguien debería intervenir ese local por atentado culinario.

Empecemos por el supuesto pollo frito: una cosa crujiente por fuera, insípida por dentro, que si me dicen que era tofu disfrazado, me lo creo. Iba acompañado de una "salsa" que más bien era un jarabe de azúcar con soja, ideal si tu idea de cena es una crisis glucémica.

Los tacos de carne mechada… madre mía. No solo sabían a ceniza, sino que el relleno parecía sacado del contenedor de un crematorio. Sospecho que rozaban el límite legal de listeria por gramo.

El alcohol (porque llamarlo cóctel sería un insulto a la mixología) estaba caliente. No templado. Caliente. Como si lo hubiesen dejado al sol o recalentado en microondas al lado de una croqueta congelada.

¿Y los nachos? Blandos. Flácidos. Una tragedia textural. Coronados con un guacamole de supermercado tan artificial que me sentí transportado a la sección de procesados del Carrefour.

¿El servicio? Inútil es poco. Confundieron pedidos, se olvidaron de la mitad y parecían participar en una performance experimental de “cómo no atender a una mesa”.

En resumen: una cena asquerosa, en un sitio que presume de algo que claramente no sabe hacer: comida.

Y ENCIMA CARÍSIMA

No vuelvo ni aunque me paguen. Y si estás pensando...