Y Viva Roberto!

The really great thing about Burns Night - that annual festival of dreich uber-Scottish melancholia spliced with whisky-soaked machismo and wha's-like-us chutzpah - is that it tells us we're nearly at the end of January, the month of vicious weather, empty Teddy Bear savings banks and broken resolutions. I was reminded of the fact by a subway poster advertising some sort of tourist jape in Ayrshire, where the National Bard was born. It shows a woman with heavy eye make-up and pillarbox red lipstick with - subtle touch - a red, red rose clenched between her teeth.

She has what can only be described as a vulpine expression, and accompanying this image is an exhortation to "start your own affair with Robert Burns" or something equally intellectual.

How typical of advertising types to fasten on to Burns' well-attested fondness for "the lassies" - and of course, infuriatingly, it will probably work. But what's all this got to do with dining and drinking? Everything, of course. It's the one time in the year when our National Delicacy - haggis - is suddenly propelled to the unlikely heights of haute cuisine. Eating the stuff is practically compulsory.

And it's arguably a nice irony that the exuberant poem written by Burns about a dish concocted from leftovers to save poverty-stricken farm labourers from starvation has become the one truly Scottish food everybody has heard of. Haggis is, technically speaking, a member of the blood sausage family. It may well be padded out with oatmeal and many other things besides, but it's unquestionably a sausage.

It's served with neeps and tatties, of course, and is frequently accompanied on Burns Night by Scotch Whisky - another of Rabbie's Favourite Things. In posh restaurants it is titivated and teased into unlikely shapes, garnished with exotic herbs and passed off as a gourmet dish, while at the other end of the scale chip shops deep fry it (or something like it) and sell it to bewildered Byres Road tourists who haven't been told you can buy the real thing in Waitrose.

Disconcertingly, I recently tried the MacSween's brand vegetarian haggis, and really liked it.

Burns Night Fiesta at Stravaigin

But - and here's a shock - it turns out haggis isn't uniquely Scottish at all. To prove it, eternally adventurous West End restaurant Stravaigin is presenting three international variants of haggi (?), and is even calling them "tapas". The Gibson Street restaurant is having a Burns Night Fiesta on Wednesday, where it will serve both Spanish and Mexican haggis.

Versions of haggis from Spain and Central America will be served alongside Stravaigin's own award winning recipe as a "flight".

The flight of haggis is served in tapas sized portions with a dram of Black Bottle whisky, the brand famously blended from whisky taken from each of seven Islay distilleries. A winning combination.

The Spanish haggis, Chireta, is made from lamb, cured ham, rice, parsley, garlic and cinnamon. It is a traditional Aragonese dish, originating in the Pyrenees and has a warm, round flavour.

In Mexico, a haggis called Montalayo has been eaten for centuries. Montalayo uses ancho-guajillo chillies, onions, garlic, ginger, cumin, marjoram, and oregano, lots of black pepper, vinegar, potatoes and peas. We're told it can be bought across North Mexico and is hotter than traditional haggis.

Stravaigin's haggis, meanwhile, is made with local mutton and includes their "secret award-winning blend" of spices and herbs.

Owner Colin Clydesdale tells us: "Worldwide, haggis has a million variants. "Universally it is a humble dish of the people, with offal being far cheaper than other cuts of meat. "Scottish haggis has evolved over the generations. Ours is a family recipe honed over 40 years, a beautiful combination of age old Scottish ingredients mixed with some very exotic spices and seasonings thanks to Scotland's links with the spice trade."

However you can forget conventional neeps and tatties if haggis-ing in Stravaigin on Wednesday.

The Mexican variant is served with the famous refried beans, and a grilled torilla; the Spanish variant - Chireta - is made from lamb offal, lamb, cured ham, rice, parsley, garlic and cinnamon served with mashed sweet potato ... so there's a tatties quotient in there after all.

Haggis Pakora

Meanwhile no doubt several Indian restaurants, but perhaps particularly Mr Singh's India, will be reminding Burns fans of another "global" variant on the classic theme - haggis pakora.

I used to think this was a rather silly gimmick, and that as a fusion concept haggis doesn't really work very well with anything else at all.

However I was wrong, having sampled some of the best evocations of the genre. It's deep fried, spicy, and haggisy - how more Scottish could it possibly be? Haggis pakora is fantastic, if it's done right, and goes down extremely well with a glass of strongish but not too sweet cask ale.

For other evidence of licensed trade-related Burnsiana and Scottish folk revelry I'd suggest Oran Mor - whose celebrations began a week or more ago - or any of the area's best-known "Scottish" bars, as in Lismore, Park Bar, Snaffle Bit, Ben Nevis.

Ae Fond Pint

Which brings me neatly to the only other local Burns spectacular I've been made aware of this week, and that's the annual session in The Three Judges at Partick Cross starring the fabulous "more Corryish than the Corries" band Cruachan. Fine sentimental music, bagpipes, food, laughter and - quite possibly - a song or two from veteran licensed trade entrepreneur Tom Lawrie, are assured. If you don't have to leap out of bed at 7am the next morning and race off to some grim Permanent Place of Employment (PPE) it's a fine way to spend one of the last otherwise miserable nights of the most hideous month of the year. Antipasti no more

I couldn't believe my eyes - but it's true. The bistro which for years looked set to be a permanent fixture on Byres Road has gone, leaving nothing behind but whitewashed windows, a forlorn goodbye note from the erstwhile owners, and poignant memories for its legions of local fans.

I'm told the sister venue in Elderslie Street is still trading away, but there's now a gap in the Byres Road scene many former regular aficionados will find quite irreplaceable - in particular a couple who just always seemed to be in there every time I passed.

A while back the venue was relaunched as a Tuscan bistro, which however didn't work. It reverted to Antipasti and seemed to be ticking over quite merrily thereafter.

However cold and unforgiving January saw the plug pulled, perhaps because of the extortionate rates charged in Byres Road, and it's a moot point whether anything in the restaurant line will move in to take its place.

Absolutely Splendid

I should have been embarrassed when the charming waitress at Absolutely 161, also in Byres Road (right opposite Peckham's) volunteered to make me a full Scottish breakfast at about 1.30pm the other day - reminding me that this is what I'd ordered at a similar time of day a few months previously.

But it is the West End, after all, and of course the whole point of an all-day breakfast is that it's never really a breakfast at all.

It's a mixed grill lunch, whose ingredients just happen to correspond closely to what you might eat if you were having a set-you-up-for-the-day repast first thing in the morning.

Whereas the allegedly most important meal of the day" for me is usually a cup of instant coffee and a bit of toast.

So I chose a Panini instead, and was treated to what amounted to a very full and appetising meal of roast chicken and mozzarella with cherry tomatoes on beautiful toasted bread with a fine Mediterranean-style rocket salad - along with a cup of the cafe's excellent Danesi coffee.

While I was in there a couple at the next table - possibly Italian, I'm not sure - were talking happily and excitedly at full volume in their mellifluous mother tongue, and for a moment I wasn't really in Glasgow at all.

I was impressed by the fact the place was doing a roaring lunchtime trade in a week when most people are eking out their remaining jamjars till payday, and intrigued by owner Grant Mitchell's hints that a makeover and a change of name are on the way.

It's taken a while for this worthy member of the West End's elite collection of top cafes to get the recognition it's due - for a while people seemed mesmerised by the supposed action on the stretch between University Avenue and Great Western Road - but all the effort has been worthwhile.

University Cafe

Meanwhile another favourite port of call, the University Cafe, is still doing its own particular thing with characteristic style - excellent Bolognese to take home hot or cold, real Minestrone soup, fabulous Italian ice cream ... classic art deco interior.

Best of all it has a "long established family business" vibe very few other ventures can hope to match, and does its everyman-cafe job with consummate but modest pride.

On the hoof

A Saturday magazine review gave a rousing endorsement to Finnieston bistro Piece the other day - and although I've never set foot in the place I'm assured by a friend who knows "good places" that it's well above average with very reasonable prices.

In fact the only negative point the review really found was that these reasonable prices aren't made terribly obvious, with the result that some people might think it's too posh and dear and be put off.

The same article bemoaned the lack of quality catering vans in Glasgow, while extolling the joys of al fresco dining in London.

England's capital is apparently awash with quality vans and stands of many different kinds, answering a growing market for reasonably-priced takeaway food that isn't the usual chain shop rubbish,

The answer to the Glasgow mystery, it seems, is that the city authorities here make it extremely difficult to launch an outdoor catering proposition, and according to my well-informed catering trade informant "can't see past the idea of vans being grotty burger joints".

In fact the only "quality" van I can think of is the Crepe a Croissant one beside Sainsbury on Woodlands Road - I'm assuming it's still there, as I haven't been along there for weeks.

One of its specialities (as with the indoor CaC outlets) is a spicy tomato soup which, I'm told, makes a terrific base for home-made Mediterranean cooking. But other than that we only have - as the reviewer observed - vans selling such garbage you'd have to be drunk to eat it.

Christmas Markets

How jolly it was at Christmas-time to visit the St Enoch Square continental market and casually order a venison, wild boar, Springbok etc burger - chargrilled before your very eyes.

There was freshly-made paella at another stand, Provencal potatoes at yet another; hearty Teutonic sausages at a German stall, and quite a lot more besides.

During the rest of the year that particular piazza, which though scuzzy could easily be made quite pleasant, has an expensive cafe in the site of the architecturally magnificent former station house; a Gregg's, a fast food chicken joint, an O'Brien's and ... that's about it.

Will there ever be much more to on-the-move dining in Glasgow than steak bakes and cakes in livid primary colours? We can only live in hope.

Hands up anyone who had a wonderful 2011? There must be a few lucky souls out there who coasted through an otherwise universally rotten year completely unaffected by recession woes - but if so I haven't met them.

Over the last few months I've got into the habit of asking bar and cafe owners on the qt how they're getting on, and the best any of them have managed is along the lines of "hanging on" - and that's really across the whole spectrum, from fast food bars to mainstream restaurants.

But at least Christmas seems to have delivered some much-needed solace for the hard-pressed licensed and catering business.

I haven't mentioned eternally popular Partick pub The Three Judges for a while, but it's maybe an indication of how well that well-known beer specialist bar is doing that the abrupt arrival of new venture Bruadar immediately beside it (on the site of the former Old Mill) is being seen as a welcome addition to the scene.

The Three Judges was fighting the punters off with pointed sticks on many week nights long before Christmas, and deservedly so: I'm still convinced its beer offer is literally unrivalled for quality and variety, but it's 'a good pub' too - and of course everyone defines what that means in their own way.

Rather than warble on about the infinite glories of the 3J's cask ale (and cask cider) blackboard, it's maybe worth mentioning another new arrival on "the scene" this year.

Less than ten minutes' stroll from the Judges in the Kelvingrove direction another cask ale bar, Brewdog, opened earlier this year with very little publicity.

One of the Sunday broadsheet mags finally got around to giving it the treatment a few weeks ago, but when it first opened (on the site of what was once the old Calypso Bar - fondly remembered in popular lore as 'The Collapso") the only write-up it received was a gloomy verging on alarmist article in the Evening Times.

The headline pointed out the firm was "controversial" - in fact it courts controversy, and is forever picking fights with official bodies it considers Nannyist or just fuddy-duddy - and made considerable play of Brewdog's reputation for producing ultra-strong beers.

And just for good measure it quoted a local community council member as hoping there wouldn't be trouble on the streets, or words to that effect.

On this column I predicted exactly the opposite would be the case, that the pub would be a howling success, and that it would attract drinkers not usually given to sampling cask ale with a responsible but fun way of exploring fabulous, sophisticated beers in nice company and ergonomically swish surroundings.

I was right

I'm so seldom completely right about anything that I've given the fact that I was right about Brewdog a heading to itself.

There had been a theory that the site (most recently the Lock Inn) wouldn't work well because it was neither at the Ashoka Triangle up at the top of west end Argyle Street nor at Partick Cross, where the 3J, the Lismore, Gallus, the Dolphin, and now Bruadar, are all close to hand - and I wondered about that potential negative too.

But in fact it has completely broken the mould, attracted customers to a "new" area (albeit it can only help that near neighbours include the fabulously popular Pelican Cafe), and even more than that has produced an extra spin-off for existing venues.

I know this because on two or three occasions towards the end of the week I've seen groups of young women appear in the Judges of an evening, and take an inordinate interest in the regular cask ales - neatly dispensing with the myth that "real" beer is bloke-ish, bearded and middle-aged.

It's worth making a fuss about good beer pubs in Glasgow, since outwith the Wetherspoons bars the number of pubs able to offer a decent cask selection remains very small, and so Brewdog's arrival is a very welcome addition to relatively nearby outlets which - heading the other way, towards town - also include the Bon Accord.

Rough West End

It used to be whispered, but now we've got a weekend magazine restaurant reviewer openly telling us that the West End has become "a little rough" - while playing up the fast-improving scene on the south side.

In fact the restaurant under review was Bungo, of which I've heard good things (maybe it will open a sister venue up the road called "Strath") and it's only the latest in a string of recent southside openings with offers as diverse as those of Banana Leaf (offshoot of the West End original); eclectic bistro, wine bar and deli Cookie, and established classic Italian restaurants like Bella Napoli, Battlefield Rest and Barbarossa - to name just a few.

But while we certainly feel confident about getting to and from Pollokshaws without being attacked or inconvenienced in any way - most nights - is the barb about our own neck of the woods remotely justified?

Sadly, I think, yes. It's ridiculous to call the whole West End "rough", but outsiders tend to think the West End is in fact "Byres Road", and weekend evenings are now the stuff of Tin Pan Alley or even Gin Lane - not threatening, exactly, but "rough" in the sense of "uncouth". Pure dead non-brilliant, to be frank.

It is the price of fickle success, replicating scenes once familiar to licensees in Dublin's Temple Bar, which had become a favourite venue for stag and hen parties.

And unfortunately the boozy late night ribaldry inevitably leads to cries of "too many licences".

Uninformed critics suppose there's a direct correlation between number of premises and number of inebriated neds.

In fact it's more complicated than that, and has more to do with the notion that the West End is "Entertainment Grand Central", rather than a residential area with some excellent eating and dining hotspots.

It's also possibly due to a policy of trying to make things supposedly safer by replicating the conditions of the city centre (which is largely non-residential and copes with 70,000 revellers most weekend nights).

The southside, frankly, has never had this sort of problem because it's never had the luxury of being a destination in its own right - even although these days it's peppered with places well worth a visit.

Read local news reports, however, and you soon find areas like Queens Park, Pollokshaws and Shawlands have plenty of home-grown problems, and more than their fare share of crime.

Where the southside is scoring, though, is in its growing collection of what are essentially neighbourhood venues catering for a previously poorly served local audience.

The Bungo reviewer claimed to have spotted "loud" West End types scouting out the culinary attractions of the south side, but I think this is really just the same old refrain continually touted by (south side journalist) Jack McLean in his heyday.

Instead of generic terms like "West End" and "south side" we should probably be talking about specific districts, like Woodlands, Partick Cross or Pollokshaws - and perhaps there's room for some joint initiative among independent bistro owners in these areas.

We already have Gourmet Glasgow, an excellent promotion, but in these recessionary times a joint promo offering something like a prix fix meal along with a cinema or theatre ticket could open up a whole new seam of possibilities for people who don't have the time or money to explore every area in detail. Instead of the relatively high end venues of existing promotions the idea would be to push quality cafes and smallish family-run restaurants - the sort of places which cater for discerning casual diners.

There's a recession on, of course, but it's also the age of the small independent operation able to appeal to a largely local audience. South Bank Show

Meanwhile a company best known for its very well-regarded West End venues, Left Bank and Two Figs, has sort of proved the point about quality venues working for discerning "local" audiences by launching a south side Left Bank.

The south side of Glasgow (meaning specifically the three areas mentioned) is going to become interesting in the same way as the south side of Edinburgh, with its distinctive shops and restaurants, and despite the general economic gloom it could be the best has yet to come.

Look to the future

Too much happened in the volatile world of West End bars and restaurants in 2011 to be recounted in detail, but as we've said before it's been a complex story of amazing triumphs and crushing disasters, with plenty of new ventures (for example Nardini's in Byres Road) still to open.

We've seen the arrival and prompt departure of both the Pakistani Cafe and the Chocolate Emporium on sites at the bottom of Byres Road, but also the apparently successful launch of Mexican venue (he said very cautiously) Pinata where Pakistani Cafe had been.

Incidentally I had to admire Pinata's cheek a while back when it decided - to the bemusement of passers-by - to stage a special themed night to mark the centenary of the Mexican Revolution.

From the busy scene inside the restaurant it's fair to say it was a case of "Viva el Revolucion, Jimmy" ... the management had correctly guessed that Glaswegians are always up for any kind of celebration.

Saladin's sit-in deli-cafe on Great Western Road (across the steps from the Belle pub) also came and went in a flash, but back down at apparently luckless Partick Cross we've also seen (as noted above) the launch of Bruadar in time for Christmas.

New Brews

This place, incidentally, will be the subject of a full investigative review once the folks there have run the place in for a bit - but from the little we know already it's certainly shaping up to be an interesting and complementary venue to 3J and Brewdog.

Bruadar translates from Gaelic as "The Dream", and clearly the Edinburgh owners, Fuller Thomson, are trying to tap into the area's well-established links with the Gaeltacht (as in nearby pubs including The Lismore, Ben Nevis, Park Bar, Islay Inn and Snaffle Bit) - and certainly one of their beer standards appears set to be from a brewery in the heart of the Hielans.

In fact it will be the only pub in Glasgow I've heard of to make a substantial feature of the well-regarded beers of the Black Isle brewery.

Bruadar will be selling Black Isle's Blonde, Goldeneye and Porter in keg; while in cash (this will surely fascinate a beerhound barman in the 3J who's an avowed fan of porter) the pub will have both Molly's Vanilla Porter and Chilli Porter.
Esoteric stuff!

Jeux sans frontiers

Given that the Judges also runs regular cask festivals on special themes - Milds and Porters seasons spring to mind - I wonder whether this iconic Maclay pub might one day join forces with its new rival across the way to launch joint promotions.

Between the pair of them I suspect they could lay on a potted ale festival to rival anything in Scotland.

I'm not talking about events like the famous Paisley Beer Festival, which glories in providing incredible variety over several days, but a smaller and more specialist event - maybe on a Scottish beer theme, or even a Highlands and Islands theme - which would make the most of the choice the pubs' respective suppliers can provide.

Of course quite a few patrons of the Judges aren't interested in cask ale at all - some are Tennant's Lager diehards, others are converts to premium German beer - but it's the specialist choice and often encyclopaedic beer knowledge behind the bar which gives the pub its edge.

With the culinary resources available to Maclay, for example from the Lansdowne, one of its other West End assets, and the experience of Bruadar owner Fuller Thomson, something really special could be devised - maybe to coincide with the West End Festival.

Bedrock venture

Another local pub milieu which continues to thrive despite the vile Scottish weather is the ever-breezy scene in Ashton Lane, where the bar and restaurant tables are the West End's frequently soggy but defiant version of continental street life.

It was once unkindly remarked that Glasgow's outdoor tables culture makes our streets resemble "Paris after a nuclear war" - but I think that's unkind: it's just a bit gallus, that's all.

Almost any time of the day after lunchtime in the Lane you'll find groups of customers - often quite glamorously dressed - eating and drinking merrily away, regardless of the weather.

Not a few of them are refugee smokers - most tables show at least one packet of fags and a lighter.

Now, in a surprise move, no doubt in an attempt to take away from that "sitting on a wet park bench in mid winter" feeling, The Ubiquitous Chip (or rather its associated downstairs bar, The Pub), has come up with a cunning but as far as I'm aware previously unadvertised wheeze.

The outside chairs are covered in what looks like deerskin - I kid you not - creating a sort of Flintstone living room look (or it could be advanced wigwam furniture for Dances With Wolves) which is really quite endearing - "a page right out of history"

All that rugged hide also neatly complements the themes of the best Scotch beef and game produce promoted so enthusiastically in The Chip restaurant itself. Does the hide make for comfier chairs? I suppose it must do, or they wouldn't have gone to the trouble.

A friend of mine who owns a half share in a bar in Oslo tells me that when it's very cold - as in sub-zero - his pub and several others issue duvets to customers who wish to smoke outside.

This way they do not freeze to death and instead come back inside and buy another drink.

We both gloomily agreed that if this were tried in Glasgow someone would almost certainly manage to set fire to the duvets.

Challenge 25

Talking about customer service, bar staff have been coping admirably with a curious new piece of legislation designed to prevent under-18's from getting served alcohol in bars.

I was recently invited to an all-party parliamentary alcohol committee launch of Challenge 25 at Holyrood, and saw first hand the effort the trade has put into making it work.

However one or two licensees present had their doubts about how it would operate in practice.

They predicted there could be difficulties in situations where just one member of a young-ish group looks under 25.

This is because, in a nutshell, if you look under 25 to bar staff you have to produce ID proving you're at least 18 - for example a driving licence or passport.

Very recently I saw exactly how the system can work. A group of four young women were buying each other drinks at the bar.

The barman politely challenged just one of them, and managed to turn the suggestion she looked under 25 (which she did) into a compliment. The woman concerned clearly thought it was nonsense, but a bit of a laugh, and produced the ID.

One positive side of the new rules could be that actual under-18's will be much easier to spot.

Whereas an oldish looking 17 year old might once have been given the benefit of the doubt the fact he or she is obviously "under 25" should now mean an automatic knockback.

The Holyrood event launching the scheme was presented by committee chair Hugh Henry MSP, who pointed out that with all the legislation in the world it's still the public's responsibility not to abuse drink.

He gave as an example a mother who had given her 15-year-old daughter a bottle of vodka to help her celebrate her birthday. How do you legislate against that?

Price fixing

Meanwhile the minimum pricing debate is back on the radar, with the SNP government determined to force it through despite dire warnings of the possible damage to exports from the Scotch whisky industry and the wine and spirits trade, among others.

If it does go ahead, it could be the first of many new legalistic restraints to be applied to the sale and promotion of alcohol - but the supermarkets and perhaps larger pub groups will fight them all the way.

Do we want alcohol retail to be managed along the same lines as some states in the USA and also Canada, where drink sales are very strictly monitored?

Contrast the high visibility of American whiskey brands on display in Scottish stores - along with highly-effective mass advertising - with the way sales are handled at one well-known brand's actual distillery outlet in Tennessee. There, I'm told by someone who's been on the tourist visit, the sale of the stuff is a deadly serious "under plain cover" exercise.

The legal age for alcohol in the US is frequently 21 - and yet here an SNP plan to allow area licensing boards to make it 21 caused uproar, not least among thirsty students.

In some Canadian jurisdictions the government decides what brands can actually be sold, an approach which would surely horrify drinks producers here.

Guess which brand might well be "deselected" by a future Scottish government - one with a big alcohol control agenda - run on these Canadian lines.

Given the country's well-advertised problem with drink (although it's frequently argued most people drink sensibly) these noisy debates about ever-evolving alcohol control measures (a burgeoning little industry in its own right) are surely going to be with us for many years to come.

Fairytale Christmas

Full marks for festive creativity to Janne Johansson, owner of award-winning Scottish seafood restaurant Mussel Inn, who made a big batch of handcrafted gingerbread houses for sale this Christmas.

The actual tale of Hansel and Gretel and the Gingerbread house (with its resident cannibal witch) is, you'll recall, like something by Stephen King - but the cake is apparently very tasty.

Mr Johansson said: "We started making gingerbread houses for Christmas a few years ago. It's a European tradition, but we soon discovered that our Scottish customers can't get enough of them."

They're probably all gone now, but had been on sale for £10 from Mussel Inn at 157 Hope Street - who will cheerfully hand over the recipe if you fancy making your own edible property.

It occurs to me that a "Gaelic" gingerbread cottage could include a generous dose of Scotch whisky or Irish whiskey liqueur to the mix - or to be really clever it could be My Old Kentucky (Gingerbread) Home and be soused with fine aged bourbon.

Welcome Carluccio's

The sit-in deli is a well-established part of today's eating out scene, but the new Carluccio's outlet recently opened in West Nile Street arguably takes the whole experience to an ambitious new level.

Boasting a genuine Italian restaurant, food shop and delicatessen, Carluccio's offers handmade pasta, seasonal fish, meat and vegetarian dishes as well as decadent desserts, many based on Antonio Carluccio's original recipes.

We're advised that two courses paired with a glass of something fruity will set you back "as little as £15" - and the venture claims to be offering good food at sensible prices

Meanwhile the deli side of the equation includes food from artisanal family producers - for example traditional panettone, chocolate covered figs presented in a handmade basket as well as the finest olive oils and carefully put together gift sets .

As well as this, Carluccio's deli counter displays an abundance of cheeses, olives and parma ham as well as tarts, sandwiches and desserts ideal for lunches on the go and take home suppers.

It is, in fact, an elaborate Italian version of the sort of experience aficionados of Indian cuisine have been enjoying at the West End's Dining In at Mother India, and in as city which loves its Italian food should find plenty of ready custom.

Wholly Giffnock!

It’s arguably a fairly unusual way of kicking off a column about West End dining and drinking (and food shopping – etc), but having just witnessed first hand the biggest story in Scottish groceries of 2011 I think there’s a reasonable excuse for talking about ... Giffnock.

We were wowed by Waitrose in Byres Road, to be sure, but the arrival of Whole Foods Market in Giffnock’s Fenwick Road (on the site of a former Morrison’s supermarket) has eclipsed all that completely.

For months what had been the decrepit old ex-supermarket in Fenwick Road has been steadily evolving into the extraordinary new retail proposition that opened this month, and for once the reality has more than lived up to the hype. I suppose any major new store opening causes a bit of excitement, but I’d be surprised if there’s ever been such a commotion in douce Giffnock about absolutely anything else before.

Where normally you’d find groups of well-heeled matrons quietly doing a bit of shopping amid the scattering of local delis and minimarts the scene in newly-opened Whole Foods Market (WFM) was like an old-style January sale in the city centre, only with hordes of people practically fighting for the chance to stock up on Gojo berries or avocado houmous.

Last year a quote in The Herald described WFM as making Waitrose look like Aldi, which isn’t actually true – there’s a recognisable similarity between these two high end propositions – but for my (limited) money, WFM has the major critical edge.

Until now WFM customers outside the US, where the brand is huge, have been confined to the ritzier parts of London. Giffnock has the honour not only of having WFM’s first Scottish store but also its first outside the Big Smoke. And when you consider Waitrose (whose gas must be at something of a peep) has launched its biggest Scottish branch at nearby Newton Mearns, the once rather dull suburb of Eastwood can now boast the biggest selection of premium groceries anywhere in Scotland – easily eclipsing any area of Glasgow, including the West End and city centre; and putting poor old Edinburgh completely in the shade. It would take far too long to go through the WFM offer in detail, but suffice to say the key is “organic” and on first sight the Giffnock store looks like a cross between a supermarket and some sort of harvest thanksgiving celebration. Glorious fresh produce is piled high (but not cheap) everywhere you look, and absolutely everything – from the ready meals to the “Lily’s Kitchen” organic cat food is top of the range.

But why mention it in a West End context? Well, West End folk generally are known to be partial to fine food and exotic ingredients, and while you’d imagine every need is catered for within a few minutes of Byres Road it’s a plain fact that the grocery glories of G12, tragic although it is to admit this, have suddenly been relegated to Junior League.

There’s something else about WFM too. The staff in Waitrose are excellent, and cannot be faulted in any degree, but .... and it’s just my perception ... some of them occasionally give the impression they’re wine waiters at the sort of flash city centre restaurant frequented by footballers’ wives, corporate junketeers and the like.

Some are maybe just a wee bit “Captain Peacock”, I would cautiously argue – although never in a really bad way.

By contrast the WFM staff appear almost implausibly “normal” and genuinely enthusiastic about their store and their customers. Admittedly it was opening day but I definitely detected an almost childish desire among servers to know what customers thought about it all.

As with the first few weeks of Waitrose in Byres Road there are price reductions on many lines, offering significant savings, and if you are interested in this kind of shopping I’d strongly advise you to take advantage of it before the tills start ringing in earnest.

When the normal prices emerge I suspect the casual browsers will be heavily outnumbered by the seriously wealthy, but even so there are innumerable reasons for visiting the store to buy treats of one sort or another – the selection of chocolates and desserts alone looks to me to be completely unrivalled. One of the staff I was chatting to told me in what appeared all honesty that the customers rampaging about the aisles on that first day were by no means all local, and I strongly suspect not a few Waitrose addicts will have been lured over the river by the promise of something still more exuberantly swanky. Before I get completely carried away I should try to come up with some sort of negative point, that is apart from mentioning the eyewatering prices, and if forced to split hairs I would say that the beer offer – while not at all bad – isn’t really that great.

Sure, there are some speciality beers, but while we rightly find Harviestoun’s Bitter and Twisted on sale where is that firm’s top notch strong ale Ola Dubh? It could practically have been invented for WFM but doesn’t seem to have a listing.

Also missing in this East Renfrewshire store is the highly regarded (and UK champion level) beer from the Kelburn Brewery of Barrhead, which you’d think would be an automatic choice given WFM’s policy of local sourcing. Fyne Ales? Nope. Tryst bottle conditioned beers? Nope. There are some fairly average choices on offer, but few of Scotland’s real top performers, and this section in particular will really have to improve.

But that is one very minor cavil with an enterprise which has definitely brought something completely new to west of Scotland food and drink shopping, and since work takes me to East Renfrewshire fairly regularly I’ll definitely be back as often as I can afford it.

If, like me, you are a cheapskate foot soldier rather than a driver, the best means of access from the West End is a subway to Bridge Street followed by a number 38 bus straight to the door. Or, if you’re a Hyndland yummy mummy, just jump into hubby’s Chelsea Tractor and nip over to Giffnock on wheels – he’ll be thrilled you’ve found a new way to thrash the plastic in style.

Missing in Action

After a fun morning seeing how the other half eat, it’s sobering to reflect on the accelerating casualty rate among food and drink offers back in Civilisation. Never a month passes without some outfit shutting up shop, of course, but the last couple of months have been much worse than usual.

Gone, on November 6, was the splendid The Chocolate Emporium at the foot of Byres Road. It was a beautiful little business which really deserved to succeed, but I’m guessing it just couldn’t find the volume of trade to keep making the financial wheels go around.

Also gone is Saladin’s Silk Road Diner on Great Western Road (which had been in the former Turkish rugs shop across the steps from the Belle pub). A couple of months ago it was going like the proverbial bazaar, and seemed to have hit upon the perfect recipe for a sit-in Mediterranean “tapas” sit-in deli.

Usually when a business closes there’s some sort of notice in the window to confirm the fact, but in Saladin’s case it was just as if the owners had followed the tactical practice of their illustrious medieval namesake and decamped overnight while leaving the watchfires burning.

On the main belt of shops in that stretch the iconic Goodies convenience store, inevitable port of call for many a late night homeward bound student, is closed and up for lease; and so is a PC shop beside it. Bad news all round. A chat with the operator of a flourishing Byres Road business confirms what I thought I already knew. Even the usually successful places are feeling the pinch, absolutely nothing comes easy, and every customer is important as never before.

I haven’t totted them up, but I’d be surprised if there’s ever been a time when so many food and drink outlets have been closed simultaneously: there’s Shahrzad at Kelvinbridge still shut, for example; and that seemingly doomed outlet at the top of Gibson Street – once home to the legendary Green Gate Indian restaurant – seems to be permanently closed and inoperable, and that despite a very high profile location.

Green Shoots

But at the same time you don’t have to look far to see some positives. Like, for example, the Brass Monkey pub at Finnieston, which has one of the nattiest interior design jobs of any bar in Glasgow – and a thing about premium spirits and imaginative cocktails. It’s one very welcome arrival on an already interesting west end Argyle Street scene.

The Butcher Shop bar and grill is another very impressive addition, offering “good” restaurant fare without the Temple of Gastronomy airs and graces which Glaswegians don’t really like anyway – and more of this place another time. Meanwhile the serially doomed Partick Cross venue which most recently housed the defunct Pakistani Cafe – closed abruptly after a burst of early success – has been relaunched yet again as Mexican venue Pinata.

I daren’t say anything much about the place in case it brings bad luck, but it appears to be regularly busy and to be taking Mexican cuisine well beyond the hackneyed fajitas and enchiladas stereotype to explore what’s evidently a far richer culinary culture than most of us gringos would generally suppose. It also boasts an impressive menu of tequilas, which – contrary to the erroneous imagery of worms-in-bottles and lads on the spree – is a genuinely sophisticated drink boasting the same level of complexity and sophistication as fine malt whiskies ... or so its connoisseurs would have you believe.

Back at Kelvinbridge we’ve the launch of a posh new fishmonger, Fantoosh, which is possibly just far enough away from Waitrose to gain serious attention from local customers.

Some of the more optimistic operators tell me there’s a definite trend back to independently-owned smaller outlets, and I hope they’re right because a future dominated by a handful of supermarket brands would be a very bleak prospect in an area which is supposed to be all about individual flair and originality.

Fine Folk

Talking of which, the superb Ben Nevis pub on west end Argyle Street has been nominated for a major award as a folk music venue – an honour which normally goes to concert halls and the like.

Anyone who knows this pub will appreciate that it’s small and perfectly formed, with a stunning interior design scheme by legendary West End artist Ranald McCall (who’s actually from North Connell in Mid Argyll, but he’s part of the West End adopted Gaeltachd now).

I mentioned this to David McNee of the Paul McKenna Band recently – a group described by the New York Times as “the best folk band to come out of Scotland in 20 years” – and he agreed it was a major achievement for the bar to win such a nomination.

It’s also a terrific encouragement for other bars with a broadly similar profile to try and follow suit, and a clear sign that good pubs are alive and well at a time when the bland and the corporate are in the ascendant.

Brel Burger

For some time now I’ve been aware of the friendly duel to the death on cheap food between various bars in Ashton Lane, with adverts offering ripping value clearly aimed at hungry students seeking something a little better than fast food but not as expensive as the menu in a mainstream restaurant.

Meanwhile I can think of one or two bars in that general area that have attempted to echo the pricing structure of mainstream restaurants without success – and which have trimmed their sails accordingly.

Bar Brel is an all time favourite on many levels, but I hadn’t actually eaten there for about a year when, one cold day a few weeks back, I suddenly decided on the spot to try their burger offer. It was a great decision because the “burger” – fabulously succulent 100-per-cent best beef - and accompanying fries and salad, were easily as good as anything comparable I’ve had in full monty restaurants in recent years.

The service was exactly right too – and so was the characteristically excellent music on the sound system.

If I’ve given the impression this was a bargain basement price deal it wasn’t, as the meal and a coffee came to about eight quid ... but, yes, actually it was a bargain to dine in such nice surroundings (the conservatory), on fare that was certainly well above average.

This sort of deal isn’t Brel’s biggest achievement by any means, but it’s nice to know it can produce the goods where relatively straightforward options are concerned and give you a nice lunch for less than a tenner. Recommended!

Prince of Persia

Another place I haven’t been to for far too long – note, must rectify – is Persia restaurant on Great Western Road at the foot of Cecil Street, which is the best Middle Eastern restaurant in Glasgow that I’m aware of.

Regularly busy at peak times I suspect its management realise there’s a need to bring diners in during quieter periods, because in an expensive stretch of road it pays to keep a place ticking over more or less continuously throughout the day – and on quiet days as well as towards the end of the week.

So I wasn’t terribly surprised to see they’ve launched not only continental breakfasts and a pre-theatre deal but also tapas lunches, and I aim to try all three of these out as soon as possible.

Apart from anything else, the lite-bite approach is a great way to experiment with dishes you may want to try in greater depth during an evening a la carte excursion on some other occasion.

Of all the West End new arrivals I can think of over the last five or so years Persia has been my favourite, excepting Indian restaurants which are really a category by themselves; and if you haven’t yet tried it now, with so many more options to choose from, is surely as good a time as ever.

Simply Naff

After chuntering on about the glories of Whole Foods Market I wasn’t going to say anything more about supermarkets, but unfortunately I have a Parthian shot to fire at M&S, whose Simply Food outlet at the bottom of Great George Street has suddenly installed self service checkouts.

OK, fair enough, M&S isn’t top of the form any more, and Simply Food is maybe just a thinking shopper’s Tesco Express, but for a grab-it-and-go concept it has one or two things going for it – and isn’t unreasonably expensive.

But why, other than a simple desire to make more money, has it suddenly decided to copy Tesco on the checkout front?

When I called in recently the sinister new machines had just been installed and a member of staff was patiently trying to explain to an elderly gent (without much success) how to work one.

Would I like to try the self service checkout, I was asked with a smile. No thanks. The smile froze a little, but only a little, and a moment later I was pinged to a normal checkout staffed by a normal shop assistant.

This charming young lady rang through my humble purchases and then said, again with a smile, but in a chiding sort of a way: “You know, you could have used the self service checkout if you had wanted”.

I did know this, of course, as I’d already been pointedly shown the DIY checkout and had declined its non-services, so I couldn’t help replying: “Yes, I could have – and then I’d have been responsible for doing somebody out of a job ... wouldn’t I?”

More honestly, I suppose, I couldn’t be bothered trying to use the thing: why on earth should I? I’m a shopper, for heaven’s sake.

There was no smile, frozen or otherwise, at this point. There was no way of contradicting the assertion and no way of arguing with a customer making such a point, so the assistant merely said: “Well, er, you could see it that way” – but actually what other way could you see it?

If the place had been heaving with customers and all the checkouts were bashing away fit to bust there might be a point, but the store was quiet (it’s never been terribly busy since Waitrose opened) and not all of the normal checkouts were manned.

My conclusion is that M&S are passing the service burden on to the customer to save money, without really offering anything in return.

The same system pertains at Tesco up the road, of course, but then that’s sort of what you expect at a cheap n’ cheesy convenience store catering mainly for students in search of booze and stodge.

Nevertheless it often seems to me there are as many staff stewarding customers towards the self-service checkouts and correcting the mistakes, etc, as they’d normally have behind real checkouts with actual shop assistants.

Real shops – real people: I’ll concede the banter at a supermarket checkout isn’t exactly Wildean, but it’s human: and self service checkouts are just a way of taking the Metal Mickey. Don’t pander to them.

No Pasaran!

On which radical note, I’m delighted to see that a local businessman’s plan to turn a 1930’s toilet block at Anniesland Cross into (I’m not making this up) a Spanish restaurant themed to the Spanish Civil War appears to be taking shape.

The scheme was publicised months ago, and I’d sort of forgotten about it, but the other day as I passed the site on foot it was very obvious that a full team are on the job inside and that major reconstruction is taking place inside in earnest.

Why the Spanish Civil War? There’s a statue of a woman dubbed La Pasionara on the Clyde waterfront, after a putative heroine of the conflict – real name Isidora Dolores Ibárruri Gómez - and she’s there largely because of the disproportionately large contribution to the Republican war effort made by the idealistic Red Clydesiders of the famous International Brigades. Sixty-five Glaswegians died fighting Franco and his Nazi and Fascist allies.

So the working title of the restaurant was to be La Pasionara and diners would be continually if gently reminded that Glasgow played a not insignificant role in Spain’s historic and tragically unsuccessful struggle for freedom against tyranny.

Franco and his vile regime of mass murder and repression are gone, Spain is a vibrant modern democratic nation, and everything the Republicans fought for has slowly, with infinite pain and sacrifice, become a reality – but it’s maybe not a bad thing to have a wee reminder in our midst of the days when some people here were prepared to fight Fascism, while HM Government sat on its hands. I’m not sure, however, if La Pasionara is a good title for the venture, as this particular woman’s real life story is just a little controversial: but that’s for the serious students of this grim fratricidal conflict to argue over.

On a more practical level, a new restaurant in Anniesland is something to be welcomed, and if it emerges as a convincing Spanish proposition too so much the better.

From what I’ve read of the developer’s plan – 40-seater restaurant, outdoor seating, fairy lights in surrounding trees – it sounds an inspired idea well worth supporting.

He reportedly aims to base the cuisine on tapas bars he’s visited in Murcia, and is clearly deeply committed to the plan: and best of luck to him too.