340 Crow Road,
Glasgow
(0141-338 6606)
THE BILLDinner for two, £64.75, excluding drinks
One man's fish is another man's poisson. Sorry, that's barely funny and not even original. Fact is, for this woman, fish can do no
wrong as long as they turn up fresh and well cooked on my plate. So a visit to An Lochan in Glasgow's Broomhill fills me with anticipation.
An Lochan takes Scotland's world-class natural bounty and runs with it. As well as the restaurant in Glasgow – a cosy eatery on Crow Road – there's a sister hotel in Tighnabruaich on the Kyles of Bute in Argyll and a country inn in Tormaukin, Perthshire.
It's via their relation in Argyll that An Lochan sources the finest, freshest seafood and game to serve to discerning city dwellers. And the restaurant goes one further than simply telling prospective diners which loch, or glen, the food on their plate comes from. Visit the website (
www.anlochan.co.uk) and you'll learn the first name, and even see photographs, of the women who dive for the scallops (Mary and Shonna), the man who stalks the deer (Winston) and the fisherman who pulls the langoustines from the chilly waters (Arthur). It's a nice touch – playing on the fashion for locally and sustainably sourced produce and giving the brand – a nasty sounding word, but there are three ventures in owner Roger McKie's portfolio – a homely feel.
The An Lochan ethos is straightforward: it's about quality produce, well prepared. The menu features unfussy cooking that allows the ingredients to speak for themselves and although the restaurant itself is fairly formal – white leather dining chairs, pristine tablecloths, neatly laid beneath a single candle and a sprig of fresh flowers – it's far from overdone.
The menu keeps the family feel going. For starters, choose from Winston's venison, smoked carpaccio with Parmesan crisps or Mary's hand-dived scallops with cauliflower purée and black pudding, as well as gravalax, oysters or Arthur's langoustines.
As the starters arrive – the scallops for me (£8.95) and Arthur's langoustines with crab, millefeuille and avocado salsa (£8.95) for my partner – it's clear that the local sourcing isn't just a gimmick. Mary's scallops (it seems disrespectful to call them anything else) are delicious. Cooked perfectly, their milky softness was offset by the strength of flavour of the purée, with added ballast provided by the sweet black pudding.
Testimony to how good the langoustines were was the fact that I was offered not a sniff, never mind a taste. I was assured, though, that the juicy, white meat tasted fresh and sweet, belying its 80-mile trip from the Kyles of Bute.
With starters as good as these, it was impossible not to let our expectations rise for the main courses. Alas, disappoinment lay ahead.
Having struggled to choose between the seafood platter – a house speciality at an appetite-shrinking £26.95 – I opted for monkfish wrapped in pancetta served on a Buccleuch beef sausage cassoulet (£17.95). All was right with the monkfish – succulent and satisfyingly meaty, with the pancetta adding just the right amount of saltiness to lift the flavour.
The cassoulet, though, was a different story. As a fan of one-pot cooking, cassoulet is a favourite because with the exception of choosing decent ingredients, there's not a whole lot you have to do to make something pretty satisfying. Wash, chop and stick it in the pot for as many hours as necessary and let it build in flavour and depth as it cooks.
The one nestling beneath my monkfish, alas, tasted as if it was made to order – I know that's usually a good thing, but not in this instance. The carrots were hard, the tomatoes lacked the mellow intensity needed for the fish and, worst of all, I found only a handful of beans hidden beneath some tenderstem broccoli.
Across the table, all was not well either. The halibut with steamed clams served with fennel and potatoes (£17.95) was certainly a fine-looking dish – a decent fillet and a generous portion of clams. But the fish was judged to be a touch overcooked. Not the most heinous crime, but disappointing in an establishment where fish is the speciality. Happily, the side order of market vegetables (£1.95), presented in a little oval dish, was perfectly done, fresh and tasty.
Portions were hearty, so dessert was a bit of an effort, truth be told. My sweet tooth, though, as well as my reviewer's integrity, wouldn't let me stop short of three courses. Decision made, lemon tart with lime jelly and orange mousse (£4.50) duly headed my way. Neatly presented, the jelly and mousse were tangy and tasty as they should be, the flavours and colours a perfect combination. The tart, perfect in consistency – eggy and soft – and with delicious homemade pastry, was a touch on the "wirsh" side for me. Palette cleansing is all well and good, but when tears come to one's eyes, it's a bit much.
Across the table, the ginger parkin with vanilla crème anglaise (£4.50) hit the spot. Rich and dense, it was devoured with gusto.
As we drained our fine bottle of mid-priced Chablis (£28.95) and I enjoyed a short, strong espresso, which chased away the zing of the lemon tart, there's no denying we'd eaten some very fine food and some that was reasonable. Whether that's good enough at these prices, I'm not sure.
The full article contains 924 words and appears in The Scotsman newspaper.
