the Kitchen on the Kelvin

Recipes, news and reviews from my cubby-hole of a kitchen on banks of the River Kelvin, Glasgow


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Under the Tuscan Sun

Last month, I finally made it to Italy for the first time. I call this third time lucky, having failed on two previous attempts. Many years back, my sister and I came across a great deal to spend a weekend in Rome. Brimming with excitement – being a whole one sixteenth Italian, I’d always wanted to visit the homeland – we boarded our Ryanair flight at Prestwick airport. Fast forward three hours later and the plane remained on the same damp and drizzly Tarmac; we were informed that due to an Italian air traffic controller strike the flight was now cancelled. With no other flights available, instead of going to Rome, we had no choice but to head home. It might be overused, but the term anticlimax was created for moments like that one.

A couple of years later, two good friends and I planned a last minute getaway to Rimini to celebrate having finished our final degree exams. However, one of the two needed a new passport. True to form, the courier arrived at my friend’s door 10 minutes too late and we missed the flight. How could it have happened again?

Having shared these unfortunate tales with Craig’s family – this was my first family holiday with the Barclays – they were eyeing me with both suspicion and apprehension that this so-called “curse” might strike again as we arrived at Prestwick Airport one windy Wednesday afternoon. After Ryanair put me through 90 minutes of agitated déjà vu before our plane finally took off – again citing issues with Italian air traffic controllers which I really must look into – we arrived happily in the warm climes of Pisa.

We were staying in the lovely town of Montecatini Terme which sits just below Montecatini Alto, an ancient village built at the top of a hill and accessible via an equally ancient but lovely funicular railway. It was at Alto we first visited Casa Gala, a quirky and truly one-of-a-kind restaurant that sits on the romantic cobbled square at the centre of the village. Potted olive trees are scattered between the tables, with lemon yellow paintwork creating a rustic Mediterranean backdrop. Inside, a long table adorned with trinkets, ornaments and plants sits below a contemporary light fitting, bringing a gallery-style feel to the place. This unusual display was my first hint that Casa Gala is something more than just a restaurant.

Craig’s parents had eaten here a year previously and told us of their amusement as they witnessed the stereotypical Italian temperament come alive; a blazing argument between the staff concluded with a waitress walking out mid-shift. Half-expecting some Fawlty Towers-esque service, we were in the right state of mind for the place, although some of the other diners appeared less amused.

Bottega di Gala, the restaurant's adjoining shop and delicatessen

Bottega di Gala, the restaurant’s lovely adjoining gift shop and delicatessen

Our server certainly seemed to lack the urgency and attention one might expect when dining out. We could see the patience at other tables wearing thin as he chose to spend ten minutes chatting with the staff at a neighbouring restaurant rather than attending to customers. Appearances, however, can be deceiving; we soon realised that the waiter, Simone, was, in fact, the owner and creator of this curious place, and his apparent lackadaisical attitude couldn’t have been further from the truth. He spoke to us about his food with so much care and passion that we were certain we were in for something very special.

Recognising our burning enthusiasm (ie greed) for food, he treated us to a wonderful array of locally produced Toscana cuisine during our week in Italy, over which time we visited Casa Gala three times. On our second visit, whilst we were perusing the stunning menu, Simone offered to go off-piste and prepare us his own special meal. In a restaurant full of diners, this felt like a pretty special opportunity available only to our party, which, naturally, we grasped with both hands. Over the next couple of hours, Simone went back of house and cooked us a five-course meal to remember.

First, a deliciously juicy tiger prawn was served on toasted Italian bread with pancetta and sliced green apple that cut through the salty, oily flavour perfectly. As it was set down on the table in front of us, the visual impact alone, tendrils and all, was enough to tell us this dish was going to be nothing short of brilliant. The prawn was generously meaty and, once that was out of the way, the toasted bread mopped up the seafood juices and pork fat very nicely indeed.

A stunning start: Tiger prawn with pancetta and sliced green apple on toast

A stunning start: tiger prawn with pancetta and sliced green apple on toast

Next, fresh wide-ribbon pasta was served with clams, squid rings and some more modestly-sized shell-on prawns, with the broth providing a light, wonderfully savoury accompaniment. Simone let the ingredients do the talking again and, combined with his technical ability, the result was another course of a really high standard.

With ingredients like this there's no need for fuss: wide ribbons of fresh pasta bathed in a seafood broth with clams, squid and shell-on prawns

With ingredients like these there’s no need for fuss: wide ribbons of fresh pasta with clams, squid and shell-on prawns

After two fish courses, we knew something quite different had to be coming next, and we were right. Put before us was a real big player; gnocchi with stilton. Three courses in, I was feeling pretty intimidated. I tend to struggle with really heavy dishes of this kind and this one brought a batten-the-hatches punch of richness that was a lot for me to deal with. I was relieved to discover, however, that the gnocchi were delightful little cloud-like mouthfuls; like no other gnocchi I’d ever had before. I couldn’t completely polish off this course, a rarity for myself, but I did a pretty good job. For gnocchi enthusiasts, this was the dish of dreams.

Packing a punch: gnocchi with stilton

Packing a punch: gnocchi with stilton and crispy sage leaves

If I think back to that moment, I remember the overwhelming emotion was concern. How much more could I stomach? How many courses were still to come? How on earth could I possibly bow out of this once in a lifetime meal? And then came another daunting reveal. Course number four was a pancetta-stuffed pork fillet served on more delicious, oil-drizzled toasted bread. The cut had been sautéed in white wine and, in all its salty goodness, was a delight to devour despite suppressed protestations from my full-to-bursting stomach.

After dark: Pancetta-stuffed pork fillet sauteed in white wine

After dark: pancetta-stuffed pork fillet sauteed in white wine

It’s difficult to imagine how we did it, but dessert made five. A selection of sweets, from a scrumptious marmalade cheesecake to a gooey chocolate fondant, were somehow devoured by our party. We sat around the table, gazing dreamily at each other – admittedly wine had been consumed throughout – recounting our personal highlights of the meal and feeling very lucky indeed.

I could easily write ten or twelve blog posts – if I miraculously discovered the necessary willpower – about the incredible food we enjoyed on our Tuscan getaway. Every meal I had in the country was of an impressively high standard, but the famous five courser at Casa Gala is the one that’ll stick in my mind. Even more so because we later discovered that the eatery-cum-hotel is named after the family’s elderly pug, Gala, who shuffles around the restaurant doing her rounds with an completely adorable confused expression on her pudgy face.

Resident pug gala on patrol with no time for photos

Resident pug Gala on patrol with no time for photos

My lasting memory of Tuscany is ancient hilltop towns, cypress-lined impressionist landscapes, sunflowers as far as the eye can see and that meal of epic proportions at Montecatini Alto. Casa Gala, we love you!


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Back to basics: fish and chips

A number of years ago, I spent a very happy, carefree semester in Brisbane, Australia, as part of my law degree. I lived in a traditional Queenslander house not far from the winding river named after the lovely city it meanders through.

When I first arrived, I couldn’t believe how great everyone looked. The lifestyle there is one of fresh air and fitness and the people seemed to be exposing their bronzed, taught bodies in a very breezy, relaxed fashion. Within seconds of arriving, I had resolved to become a part of this fresh-faced, glowing club. However, one delicious stumbling block stood firmly in my path, almost literally (in the true sense of the word).

At the end of sunny Heidelberg St, just a few steps from my front door, stood a sandwich board proudly boasting ‘Australia’s best fish and chips’. Down a few steps and across a small, unassuming car park was a chippy I can’t even remember the name of, but a chippy with a difference. More like a fishmonger, instead of ready-fried fish, sausages, pies and even pizzas languishing greasily in a heated cabinet, rows of snapper, salmon, barramundi, cod and calamari glistened appealingly on a bed of crushed ice, only to be fried once the lucky customer takes their pick. Albeit fantastic, this wasn’t enough to prove a vice in my pursuit of wholesomeness.

The beer battered chips, however, were another story. What I had previously known of ‘beer-battered’ was an airy and crisp coating on a piece of haddock or cod. These chips, however, had no such crust. What they did have was a slightly coarse, flavourful bite on the outside and a steaming hot, plump and fluffy character in the middle. The name itself might be a little misleading and what they’d done with them exactly was a mystery to me but, goodness, did they taste good.

Needless to say, I enjoyed those hot chips more often than was wise in bikini culture Brisbane. It wasn’t before long, though, that I moved home to the other side of the world, far away from such temptation. That was until Old Salty’s opened just down the road a few months ago.

I’m very lucky to live just a couple of minutes from what has become the trendiest hub in the city of Glasgow. Crabshakk, The Finnieston, Kelvingrove Cafe and The Gannet (which is wonderful, for the record)  have turned a slightly dogeared part of the west end into the place every scenester wants to spend their Saturday night – and Sunday morning for brunch, snatch. While dining out at any of these establishments comes at a cost, a new and affordable breed of fish and chip shop-cum-cafe has opened its doors right in the thick of it and I’ve fallen hook, line and sinker.

One wet and windy Friday night, Craig and I decided to give the place a test run after I ‘d spotted its opening a couple of days before. The curious name itself was enough to tempt me, not to mention the eclectic look of the place. While that classic chip shop counter remains, don’t expect to find any greasy plastic furniture here; traditional Victorian tiled walls are teamed up with tile-top tables laden with condiments, candles and a bottle of wine if you fancy (which, to little surprise, we did). Arriving at rush hour on a Friday night, particularly busy as you can also take away, we had a few minutes to wait but it wasn’t long until we were shown to a table by a woman, seemingly the owner or manager, with a lively attitude and a smile you couldn’t help but return. The place was certainly buzzing with the anticipation of the treat of a fish supper on a Friday night and it was clear to see that a real melting pot of people were excited about this new haunt.

Both of us were in the mood for a straight up classic of haddock and chips (a very reasonable £7.95 when sitting in) and waited with baited breath – sorry, these fish puns are impossible to avoid – while it was fried to order and delivered to our table piping hot. The chunky fish was beautifully fresh, the batter triumphantly light and crunchy and the chips – forget the triple cooked gourmet variety – were traditional chippy chips done well. My dad, veteran chippy connoisseur, has a real dislike for what he calls “burst chips” and I can safely say these weren’t anything of the sort. As his chippy protege, I’ve made it my mission to visit a few good fish and chips shops over the years (including the award winning one at Anstruther which I felt was a little overrated, especially after 30 minutes of queueing) and, in all honesty, this one, all too conveniently just a couple of minutes from my front door, is right up there with the best. So thank you and screw you for ruining my wholesome, health food ambitions Old Salty’s!

The best comfort food there is

The rarely disputed king of comfort food. Made even better with wine.

Sitting in or taking away, if you’re looking for a satisfying feed at a reasonable price with real atmosphere, Old Salty’s is a very delicious no brainer.


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Corfu, Part I: Ermones

First things first, I have to apologise for my summertime blogging hiatus. Since starting a busy new job at the beginning of July, I’ve neglected to put aside any time to tell you what I’ve been eating. I’m glad to say that the guilt has finally got the better of me and I’ve now promised myself I’ll get back into the habit of writing regularly.

The event which spurred this sluggish return to Wordpress was a late summer getaway to the lush Greek island of Corfu. Craig and I found ourselves whiling away the hot days and refreshingly cool nights in a very quiet corner of the island called Ermones. Situated on the west coast of the island but not too far from Corfu Town, we stayed at the Atlantica Grand Mediterraneo Resort which was one of only two hotels built into the cliffs around this picturesque little bay with a historical past; according to travel agency Thomson’s guidebook, Homer’s Odysseus washed up ashore here to find a bevy of maidens waiting for him. I suppose this would’ve been the perfect time to pick up this legendary tome, but that sort of a literary challenge doesn’t really pair well with a holiday for me.

The beautiful Ermones Bay

The beautiful Ermones Bay

For the first time ever, we opted to go all-inclusive. This is something that I’ve been very hesitant to do in the past, but the quiet location and a number of positive reviews of the hotel’s cuisine on Tripadvisor gave us the confidence to take a gamble which I’m both pleased and relieved to say paid off.

One of our most weighty reasons for going all-inclusive was value for money. Craig and I admittedly like to enjoy a drink or two on holiday and have felt the room tab fear when settling our bill at the end of a couple of previous getaways. What could be more fitting with a holiday than not having to worry about a budget? The selection of drinks on offer was excellent with plenty of brand names and cocktails forming part of the package. In particular, our hats go off to barman Costas and his talent for mixing some very delicious mojitos which we enjoyed many a late afternoon by the pool.

Well and truly wound down

Well and truly wound down

Lunches and a couple of our dinners were had at the hotel’s Medusa restaurant. This was your standard buffet set-up with plenty of salads, fish, chicken and meat on offer at all times. I found this particularly good at lunch time when I could opt for a light meal, as stodge and a bikini make a beach body not. I was happy with a piece of fish or chicken alongside the ultimate classic of greek salad. At one point during the week, I feared I might have become about 90% feta cheese after devouring so much of the delightfully creamy stuff. Now, several weeks cold turkey, I think I’m back to the standard water:protein:fat:minerals ratio.

Sunset over Ermones Bay

Sunset over Ermones Bay

We spent our second evening at one of the hotel’s a la carte restaurants, Thalatta, which serves Corfiot seafood on the beach. As you can see from our photos, we arrived just on time to see the vibrant sun disappear over the horizon. The food on offer here was the best of Greek cuisine: simple and hyper-fresh with quality ingredients that speak for themselves. The starter comprised a meze of traditional dishes including greek salad with the most flavoursome tomatoes you couldn’t ever hope to find in the UK, tasty anchovy toasts, tzatziki, Corfiot codfish bianco (with garlic and lemon) and delicate fried squid which had to be straight from the sea that day. Already approaching full, we then enjoyed beautiful whole sea bream with grilled peppers, aubergine and courgette. The meal was concluded with a dainty selection of baklava; syrupy, sticky, sweet and nutty, this couldn’t be anything but a real treat.

Don't mess with the classics

Greek salad, tzatziki and olive bread: don’t mess with the classics

Beautiful fried sea bream with grilled med veg

Beautiful sea bream with grilled med veg

Another evening saw us visiting the hotel’s fine dining restaurant. Vertigo, perched high upon the cliffs, has an impressive view across the bay and serves Italian food of a sophisticated nature. With no pizza in sight, we started with a scrumptious ravioli appetiser, complements of the chef, which heightened our anticipation for what was to come next. I fear you’ll think I’m becoming a bore, but I just couldn’t let the goats cheese starter pass me by. Two overly generous wedges baked in a contrasting crunchy crumb were complemented with oozing figs, crispy prosciutto and a tangy balsalmic glaze. Safe to say, I had no goats cheese regrets yet again. Craig, always a sucker for shellfish, opted for fritto misto to begin and then a decadent seafood spaghetti overflowing with gargantuan king prawns. In a move controversial for myself, I ordered the veal fillet for my main on the recommendation of our server. While it’s not something I choose to eat regularly,  the meat was delicately sweet and tender and something really quite special.

Delicate fillet of veal with shredded tempura cabbage and carrots

Delicate fillet of veal with shredded tempura veg

The only meal which topped those described above was one we had in Corfu Town. So good, in fact, it deserves its own blog post which I resolve to write over the next few days. For now, I’ll leave you with this mystical shot of the valley beyond Ermones just after sunrise one morning. A little off the most beaten parts of the tourist trail, I’d visit this place again in a heartbeat.

A misty morning in the valley

A misty morning in the valley


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Home: the Isle of Arran

The beautiful Brodick Bay, Isle of Arran

I’ve been lucky enough to visit some of the most incredible places the world has to offer, but, no matter how I look at it, the Great Barrier Reef, New York City and Maya Bay just don’t quite compare to the humble Isle of Arran.

Situated off the west coast of Scotland, this island was the destination of almost every holiday I enjoyed during my childhood. Come rain or shine, I spent my days in and around ‘The Bungalow’ – my gran’s unique island abode – in Whiting Bay. Proudly elevated above Shore Road, the sandstone-fronted bungalow overlooking the beach had been extended several times over the years and became a residence of many elements: the front house (the luxury quarter where my gran lived); the back house (the self-contained, no-frills accommodation for family units on a fortnightly stay); the annexe (a small cupboard off the back house kitchen with a bed wedged in and no door – exclusively for the use of my unfortunate male cousins when beds were in short supply); and the penthouse (an unrenovated loft space with mattress for my even more unfortunate male cousins when the comparably opulent annexe was occupied). The bed policy was unashamedly sexist, but I wasn’t going to complain about it and risk spending a night in the penthouse with spiders the size of salad plates.

Unfortunately when my gran passed away some years ago, the house had to be sold and my heart was shattered into quite a few pieces. But thankfully I still get to spend a bit of time on Arran now that my family members have bought their own island boltholes.

Last December, however, I spent a couple of nights in a hotel on the island for the first time ever. I was enticed into this unprecedented move as a result of the no expense spared renovation of the iconic Douglas Hotel. Situated directly across from the pier in Brodick, this once-grand red sandstone pile had degenerated into an eyesore over the years but has been completely transformed into a luxury boutique hotel. Craig and I had a fantastic winter break and knew it wouldn’t be long until we returned.

A couple of weeks ago, thanks to a generous gift from Craig’s mum and dad, we spent another weekend at the wonderful Douglas and – once again – it did not disappoint. The decor, the atmosphere, the staff and the food make it the perfect balance of contemporary and traditional, of stylish yet relaxed.

After a wander during the day and a couple of G&Ts before dinner, we settled into the bistro for a delicious meal. To start, I opted for the beetroot, peppered goats cheese, cider poached pear and pumpkin seeds. I’m seldom able to pass over a goats cheese starter and this was one of the best I’ve had. Not only did it look stunning on the plate, but the goats cheese had the creamiest whipped texture which was cut through beautifully by the sweetness of the beetroot.

A work of art: beautiful goats cheese, beetroot, cider poached pear and pumpkin seed starter

Craig hit the foodie jackpot with his choice of Loch Fyne scallops, parma ham, confit duck and caper and lime sauce. The combination of scallops and duck struck me as a little unusual but it well and truly worked a treat. I only managed to snaffle a mouthful or two for myself but from that I can tell you it was excellently prepared and, should I get the chance to order this in future, I’ll be keeping every last mouthful for myself.

Sublime: Loch Fyne scallops, parma ham, confit duck and caper and lime dressing

Here I have to make a special mention to the hotel owner, Sean, who – by a series of bizarre coincidences – had met Craig in St Petersburg back in 2006 and showed him and a couple of his travelling companions a wild time over the space of a week. Sitting in the hotel bar mid-afternoon, Craig couldn’t quite believe his eyes when he recognised Sean and his wife as they passed our table, and it was even more to our surprise when we realised he also owns the place! After chatting before dinner and enjoying a couple of drinks with his family, Sean very generously sent us over a lovely bottle of champagne between our courses which we gratefully guzzled over the next couple of hours. He was a wonderful host and really has done a marvellous thing in bringing this decrepit hotel back to life with a resounding jolt, miles better than it ever was before.

A little too ‘distracted’ by the liquid offerings on the table, I didn’t manage to capture any more photos of our meal but I can tell you that the 28 day dry aged rib eye of beef, roast shitake mushrooms, white anchovy butter and chunky fries was a most satisfying feed. The beef was full of richness and the chips – served in kitsch mini frying basket – were top class and of the delicious crispy-on-the-outside, perfectly-fluffy-on-the-inside variety. Craig, meanwhile, had a hearty venison chasseur which I know he gobbled down gleefully. We couldn’t even manage a dessert to share, so full of delicious goats cheese, scallops, duck, steak, venison, chips and champagne we were. It was a veritable feast and one I wish I could relive right now.

I cannot recommend this place enough. Our room was beautifully decorated, very comfortable and not the slightest bit pretentious. The bar is relaxed, interesting and radiates a great, convivial atmosphere. The bistro, more formal as it should be, is stylish, spacious and bright. And finally, the entire staff is fantastic. Friendly, very happy to help and full of enthusiasm for the place, they make the Douglas Hotel what it is and ensure that we’ll be back time and time again. Check it out on Tripadvisor where you’ll read all you need to know.


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Book review: ‘What Katie Ate: Recipes and other Bits & Bobs’ by Katie Quinn Davies

What Katie Ate: Recipes and other Bits & Bobs

What Katie Ate: Recipes and other Bits & Bobs

I’m a real sucker for things that look nice. Ashamed as I am to admit it, text-heavy cookery books just don’t do it for me. It’s the mouthwatering, tantalising imagery that ignites my enthusiasm to try whatever Nigel, Nigella or Jamie has effortlessly thrown together in a rustic yet refined fashion. So when Amazon alerted me to the fact that the debut cookbook of Katie Quinn Davies – author of stunning blog What Katie Ate – was available for pre-order, my restraint didn’t stand a chance.

This is genuinely one of the most beautiful cookery books I’ve ever laid eyes upon. A designer and photographer turned food stylist and blogger, Katie has created a bohemian, laid-back and aspirational aesthetic throughout her book and I’m very pleased to say it combines style with substance.

As a Dubliner living in Sydney, she has adapted very well to the Aussie great outdoors and the pages are strewn with luscious images of barbecue-ready shellfish and vibrant garden party salads. I’m praying this weekend’s weather brings an abundance of sunshine and warmth to Glasgow so that I can get tucked into the sizzling prawns, barbecued peppercorn beef fillet with chilli and herb gremolata and chorizo and potato salad with rocket and manchego shavings. This food is intended for open-air consumption with charcoal and drinks and friends and family.

Dotted throughout the book, however, are lucid references to her stubborn Irish roots. It doesn’t get any more homely than Katie’s fish pie with crunchy bacon and leek topping, Mick’s pork and red wine lasagne and roast pork with apple, apricot and pistachio stuffing. So when I’m craving stodgy, oozing and tummy-pleasing comfort food, I’ll be reaching for this all-encompassing tome all over again.

Here’s a rough critique of the recipes I’ve tested so far:

Beautiful raspberry friands

Easy on the eye: raspberry friands

Raspberry friands: These eye-catching little delicacies made the front cover of the book and were my first stop as a result. Very simply thrown together, the recipe calls for egg whites and ground almonds affording them a deliciously light texture and grown-up, sophisticated flavour. They make an excellent alternative to standard fairy cakes when the occasion calls for something with a bit of elegance. I also threw caution to the wind and used frozen raspberries – knowing full well I was risking soggy bottom syndrome due to the excess liquid they hold – but the friands came out just fine.

Finger-licking good: Sticky chicken with sesame and chilli

Finger-licking good: Sticky chicken with sesame and chilli

Sticky chicken with sesame and chilli: In the introductory paragraph to this recipe, Katie says “This is a great mid-week, easy-peasy, ‘throw-it-all-in-the-baking-dish’ meal. Even though the list of ingredients looks long, I’m willing to bet you’ll find 99% of them in your fridge or store cupboard already”. Aside from being a girl after my own heart with her excessive use of hyphens, she was right: all I needed to pick up were the chicken drumsticks and wings and the sesame seeds for sprinkling over when serving. Honey, wholegrain mustard, ketchup, balsalmic vinegar, Worcestershire sauce, garlic, red onion, sugar, smoked paprika and cayenne pepper bubble down deliciously to create a very tasty dinner with very little effort involved; until you go to clean the pan, that is!

Packs a punch: Barbecued prawns with Thai dipping sauce

Packs a punch: Barbecued prawns with Thai dipping sauce

Barbecued prawns with Thai dipping sauce: Do not eat these prior to spending time with anyone who hasn’t had them too. The prik nam pla dipping sauce requires a strong hit of raw garlic which rather outstays its welcome. But that’s not to say you shouldn’t try them. With very little cooking required, this dish offers an explosion of hot, zingy and tongue-twisting flavour which can be adapted to suit your own tastes: my generous addition of chopped chillies almost blew the head off Craig’s unsuspecting mother when she had a taste.

And that’s as far as I’ve got with What Katie Ate at present. Aside from being drop dead gorgeous, the Australian fusion cuisine it offers makes a very welcome and distinctive addition to my ever-expanding foodie bookshelf. In a nutshell, I’m a happy customer!


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Glasgow’s best restaurant: Ian Brown Food and Drink, Giffnock

This isn’t a review.

I couldn’t for a second pretend to be impartial, unbiased or remotely rational in telling you about this exceptional little eatery in the southern suburbs of Glasgow because it is – by a million miles – my favourite restaurant.

Just a few minutes’ drive from my boyfriend’s family home, this little bit of heaven in Giffnock is the Barclays’ first port of call whenever something calls for celebration. And luckily for me, I get to join them in savouring the beautiful, locally-sourced food that chef Ian Brown creates from his compact little kitchen in this family-run restaurant.

Ian was head chef at Ubiquitous Chip – long one of Glasgow’s most respected and well-known restaurants – for around 20 years before striding out on his own and, from where I’m standing, it’s going very well.

Booking in advance is crucial if you want to secure a table on a Friday or Saturday night: there are only a few covers and this place has nurtured an excellent reputation for quality food and service. The maître d’, Sheila, is as much responsible for the restaurant’s success as is her husband’s masterful cooking. You couldn’t ask for a more friendly, unpretentious and helpful host and we’ve gotten to know her pretty well over the past couple of years. When we went along one evening last year, Craig’s dad was disappointed to find that his favourite rice pudding was no longer on the menu, but Sheila told us to request it on booking next time and it would be prepared especially for him! Infallible personal service like this cannot be bought and it sets Ian Brown’s far apart from its closest competitors.

As it was Craig’s dad’s birthday last week, our next visit had been pencilled in for weeks and I was brimming with anticipation as the day edged closer.

Finally it was here. To start, I opted for the special of scallop and serrano ham thermidor. Served in the shell, it was clear that if looks were anything to go by, this was going to be a sensational dish. The decadent thermidor sauce mingled beautifully with the sweet, delicate scallop enveloped in deliciously salty serrano ham. While this was always going to be an incredibly luxurious dish, I was relieved to find that the ham ensured it wasn’t too rich to enjoy every last mouthful.

To start: scallop and serrano ham thermidor

To start: scallop and serrano ham thermidor

Next up, my main course was also from the evening’s specials: fillet of roe deer with wild garlic potato croquette, spinach, green beans and peas. As you may have gathered from my recent blogging history, I’m somewhat fixated with venison and my mind was made up from the moment my eyes met the word ‘deer’ on the specials menu. As I’d hoped, it provided a beautiful and welcome contrast to the creamy first course I’d just gleefully devoured. The roe deer, more delicately flavoured than its red cousin, was served beautifully pink in a rich gravy and I was left wanting more.

The main: fillet of roe deer with wild garlic and potato croquette, spinach, green beans and peas

The main: fillet of roe deer with wild garlic potato croquette, spinach, green beans and peas

Then came the dessert to rival all others. The dark chocolate fondant was a regular on the menu and I’d contemplated giving it a go at least two or three times previously, but always opted for something different in the end. I’m certainly a chocolate lover and I like to think I have a pretty good palate for the stuff having worked for Kshocolat, a Glasgow-based luxury chocolate brand which is now defunct, during my student days. ‘Chief Taster’ was not my official title, but I felt duty-bound to test each variety once or thrice in order to offer our customers the first-hand advice they sought . . . Well, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it. Anyway, there was no doubt in my mind that the chocolate fondant would be very good given that I was at Ian Brown’s. As I eagerly plunged my spoon into the delicate sponge pudding, the silken chocolate sauce oozed out sensually, just as it should. But I wasn’t prepared for just how divine it would be on the tongue: not too bitter; not too sweet; melt-in-the-mouth with a wonderfully intense chocolate hit. It was perfect. The raspberry sauce and ice cream were good too, but the fondant itself was so expertly balanced that these additions weren’t even necessary. Desserts don’t get any more decadent than this one, and if you happen to find yourself dining at Ian Brown’s anytime in future then I urge you to plump for the dark chocolate fondant.

To finish: dark chocolate fondant with raspberry sauce

To finish: dark chocolate fondant with raspberry sauce

Now I just need to come up with a new excuse for our next visit. I don’t think I can wait until Craig’s birthday in July! It’s the Queen’s birthday and summer solstice next month. Surely they require some celebrating . . . ?


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Street Food Cartel @ SWG3, Friday 10 May 2013

I’ve often wondered why Glasgow hasn’t followed London’s suit in bringing decent street food to us city dwellers.

There’s little doubt that this is an area in which the western world has trailed behind South-East Asia, India and North Africa to name a few, but London has witnessed a burgeoning trade in street food over the past decade as trailers and caravans rapidly pop up in markets across the city. Despite a particularly nasty bout of food poisoning contracted after sampling the street fare in Vientiane, Laos, I still think there’s no better way of immersing yourself in a culture when exploring new destinations. As I can tell you myself, there’s always an element of risk when chowing down as the locals do, but it has to be your best shot at authenticity.

For now, Glasgow’s best effort at street food amounts to a late night burger van calculatedly positioned at Charing Cross to draw in inebriated, unthinking revellers heading west from the debauchery of Sauchiehall Street at 3am. I, for one, would be interested to learn the outcome of DNA analysis on those ever-popular patties.

Fortunately, a collective movement for change is beginning to create some ripples in the dank, stagnated waters of Glasgow’s destitute street food scene. A growing number of forward-looking chefs want to bring real, high quality food to the crying-out-for-it streets of the city. However, dealing with the ever-exascerbating Glasgow City Council was never going to be easy and licensing applications have consistently been rejected. Read about why here if you want to get angry.

In a refusal to back down, Street Food Cartel was born. Put simply, it brings the street food experience indoors as a pop-up restaurant based at SWG3 in Yorkhill. This exhibition space and gig/club venue was the perfect choice for an edgy event like this because it’s already a popular haunt of the city’s moustache-toting, horn-rimmed spectacle-clad hipster community. News of the first event in March would spread like wildfire on social media, prompting extra dates to be added and leaving those who didn’t make it along really smarting. Yes, that includes me.

When the next pop-up was announced, I hopped right on that bandwagon and snapped up tickets for Friday 10th May. Expectations were high. After navigating my way to SWG3 – my third or fourth visit but my first time sans pre-bev – I made my way into the former warehouse through a series of unmarked, un-handled doors, eventually emerging into a pretty large space crammed full of makeshift trestle tables and zealous diners. I was offered a complementary Schiehallion beer or a vodka cocktail on arrival and – being a girl – I opted for the latter. Presented in a glass bottle wrapped in a brown paper bag, it was truly Pinterest-friendly. Unnecessary? Probably. Pretentious? For sure, but I won’t pretend that it didn’t meld excellently with the guerilla-style, illegal warehouse party atmosphere going on. It was tart, refreshing and lovely and I would’ve really liked another, but it was a welcome drink only and didn’t appear on the menu. Unfortunately, I also have no idea what was in it aside from vodka, lots of citrus and lots of sugar, making it rather difficult to replicate at home.

Street Food Cartel: the menu

Street Food Cartel: the menu

Sitting in a group of six – a couple of whom had attended the debut SFC in March – we opted for ‘one of everything, please’. Within just three or four minutes, our end of the table was overflowing with spicy, Mexican fare from Lupe Pinto’s Deli, the Great Western Road stalwart famous for its chillies, chorizo and hot, hot spices. All of it was delicious, coming with soft tacos and sides of guacamole, pico de gallo, jalapenos and sour cream. As a disciple of the mighty chilli pepper, I embraced this spicy offering as a scrumptious kick-start to the system. ‘It all starts to taste the same after a while’, I heard a couple of people in my party utter, but I disagreed. The beef, chorizo and chipotle chilli was brimming with richness and flavour and heat, while the sweetcorn, three bean, ancho and cinnamon veggie chilli was a much more piquant palate-cleanser. For me, however, the chicken tinga was the outright winner. I’m always really impressed when someone takes chicken from a fairly standard filler to a genuinely satisfying feed, and that’s exactly what Lupe Pinto’s did here. The poblano chillies offered it plenty of heat, but the white beans added a smooth, creamy texture that delivered a new layer to the usual formula of (Tex-)Mexican cuisine I’m used to. Teamed up with tender, well-seasoned chicken, the dish was very nice indeed.

You’d think that would be enough, but there were still four dishes to come from scoop. At the forefront of the campaign for street food in Glasgow, scoop is operated from a silver, bullet-shaped caravan that wouldn’t look out of place in a 60s sci-fi movie. Chef Jonathan Macdonald founded the company after spending many years travelling the world and cooking as he went, including a five-year stint as head chef for the McLaren F1 team. A quick glance at the SFC menu tells you that scoop’s style is undoubtedly influenced by global flavours and ingredients. First out were the Thai haddock and prawn cakes which, I can tell you, looked like beautiful golden nuggets atop a crunchy, contrasting herb salad. I cannot, however, tell you how they tasted. Unfortunately, there just wasn’t enough to go around six people. As a lover of fishcakes, this would have been particularly devastating for me if there weren’t plenty of other dishes to distract me from my anguish. Blending Asian, North African and Mediterranean cuisine, the butternut squash spring roll, beetroot pesto, feta and toasted hazelnut dukkah marked a big in-your-face to those who slate vegetarian food. Flavour, texture and aroma: it had it all. The (insanely tender, gelatinous and melt-in-the-mouth) beef rib and the confit pork belly weren’t far short of divine, but this veggie combination was sensational. Not only that, but it was ‘clean’: it tasted like it was good for me; it offered a welcome lift from the full-bodied, excess of rich, meaty flavours I’d been gorging on all evening. The butternut squash spring roll was easily my favourite dish of the night and I only hope I’ll get to try it for a second time in future.

After finishing off with some of Lupe Pinto’s churros – decent cinnamon pastries and beautiful, bowl-lick-worthy molten chocolate sauce – we were out of there, aware that the next round of eager eaters were waiting with much anticipation to get a hold of our end of the table. There’s no denying that the food was excellent and I’ll certainly be snapping up tickets for the next round, but I do hope that a few teething problems will be addressed. Firstly, it was near impossible to hold a conversation with anyone who wasn’t directly to your left or right because of the beats booming around the cavernous, exposed brick space housing the event. I really commend the addition of a DJ because it emphasised the uniqueness of SFC, setting it far aside from your average restaurant meal, but emerging from dinner hoarse isn’t ideal. I’m no sound engineer, but maybe just turning down the volume a little would resolve this issue I’ve heard quite a few grumbles about. Secondly, I was very keen to sample the Tapatio tequila con verdito, but our round never showed up. As we made our way out 30 minutes after ordering these and not having had a waitress in earshot during that time, I saw the barman pouring six tequilas which were probably bound for our willing necks. There had clearly been a bit of a breakdown in communication which could probably be resolved quite easily with the addition of some more waiting staff.

Street Food Cartel: the aftermath

Street Food Cartel: the aftermath

Sorry I didn’t manage to capture even one tantalising dish for you: an unmistakable animal instinct took hold of our pack and the food was long extinct before I could even consider resting my jaw to grab my iPhone. You can check it all out on the Street Food Cartel Facebook page here.