Rani Restaurant- Fed Me So Well I Briefly Lost the Ability to Complain

There’s a small slice of Lija where civilisation seems to have peaked. It’s called Rani, and it lives inside an old Maltese townhouse that’s been renovated so handsomely you half expect it to demand its own modelling contract. Limestone walls, dashes of colour, and that glorious orange traditional shop façade outside that basically shouts, “OI, YOU! COME EAT.”

Inside, it’s sparkly-clean, honestly, operating-theatre clean, and the staff move with the precision of a well-oiled machine. Attentive, polite, and faster than you can say “I’ll just browse the menu,” they set the tone immediately by dropping a couple of mini potato tarts on the table. These little parcels of joy came topped with crispy strips of Bombay mix, and they were so good I briefly wondered if I could get away with ordering 40 of them and calling it a meal. Starters included vegetable samosas that were perfectly crisp and not filled with the usual “what even IS this?” mystery mush; onion bhajis that tasted like crunchy golden happiness; and Chicken 65, the glorious deep-fried spicy wonder that sounds like a mid-range Honda but tastes like something you’d happily fight a small army for.

Then came the main courses, and this is where things got serious.

We went for Chicken Tikka Masala, the comfort food equivalent of a warm hug from someone who actually likes you. Then, a spicy Kadai beef with enough firepower to knock a satellite out of orbit. And finally, the star of the night: Lamb Keema Matar, a spicy minced lamb curry cooked with garlic and green peas. It’s one of those dishes that makes you lean back, stare at your plate, and mutter, “Oh, come on” because you can’t believe how good it is.

To mop all this up, we had kulcha soft enough to be used as a luxury scarf and a bowl of jeera pulao that smelt so heavenly it should be sold as a scented candle.

Just when we thought we’d reached the summit of Mount Full-Up, dessert happened.

First, gulab jamun, warm, syrup-soaked sweet dumplings that could probably fix a broken marriage. And then there's rasgulla, those spongy cottage cheese balls that taste like someone turned happiness into a sport. Sweet, bold, unapologetic… it was like being punched in the face by sugar, and I mean that in the best possible way.

And because no feast is complete without a drink, we tried Kingfisher beer. Never had it before. Turns out it’s the perfect companion for a table full of spice, refreshing, crisp, and far better than the name suggests (I honestly expected it to taste like a fishing trip).

So here’s the verdict: Rani in Lija isn’t just a restaurant, it’s a culinary cuddle. Everything is cooked with love, served with pride, and eaten with the kind of enthusiasm normally reserved for free buffets and unexpected pay rises.

If you like flavour, warmth, and the feeling of accidentally discovering something brilliant… go. Bring an appetite. Bring a friend. And bring the good sense to order the Lamb Keema Matar.