176 West Regent Street,
Glasgow
(0141-248 3801)
The Bill
Dinner for two, £81.25, excluding drinks Poor old Paris. The gastronomic capital of the world took a knock this month when Michelin, the restaurant guide p
ar excellence demoted one of its three-starred restaurants – the world-famous Le Grand Vefour – to a two-star, while at the same time elevating a seafood establishment in Marseilles to the much coveted three-star table.
For a city whose culinary heritage is as important as legs to a bullfrog, it is a significant blow. This is the third year in a row that Paris has lost a three-starred restaurant, and the city's gourmands are beginning to ask themselves, is it us, or them? Quelle horreur!
Of course, Paris's troubles in the culinary stakes pale into insignificance when compared with those of Scotland's fair city in the west. While Edinburgh puffs out its chest with three Michelin-starred restaurants, Glasgow still skulks in the shadows without a single sparkle. In January, when the latest star ratings were issued, many expected this to change. After all, it's not as if Glasgow's restaurants lack the talent.
Along with Michael Caines's ABode and the Bistro at Hotel du Vin, Brian Maule at Chardon D'Or, in the heart of the city, should be a shoo-in for a Michelin nod, many Scottish foodies would argue. Certainly, his pedigree is impeccable. Originally from Ayrshire, he is a former head chef at Le Gavroche, the London restaurant that boasted, under his stewardship, two Michelin stars. He returned to Glasgow in 2001 to set up his own eatery and has been toiling away there ever since, earning himself a devoted clientele, salivating reviews but, so far, no nod from the Michelin guide. So when this year's list was published and yet again Maule's name did not appear on it, he told one journalist, in exasperation, "I don't know what they're looking for any more."
It seems a curious state of affairs. Just why has Maule been kept earthbound when so many, including, it seems, the man himself, think he should have been added to the firmament above? I decided to go along one Saturday night to find out.
The restaurant is one of those establishments that mixes cosy with formal very well. Although there is undoubtedly an atmosphere of reverence, it is also relaxed, with low flickering lights and gaps between the tables big enough to feel you can spill your secrets in privacy. We settled in quickly.
My companion went for the game terrine with a fig and apple chutney (£9.75) for his first course – a robust, meaty dish exquisitely complemented by a large dollop of velvety fruitiness. I must confess to being a little disappointed in my saucisson of chicken, duck and pistachio nuts with pesto (£10.25), however. It was not a bad dish, but the texture was a little boring, and the taste was only just rescued by the delicate flavour of the pistachios. I felt myself suffering a whisker of order envy.
With luck on his side, the fillet of beef with red wine shallot confit (£24.75) my companion chose for his main course was also a resounding success, a great pillow of meat, and exquisitely tender. The sauce, rich and unmucked-about with, made a classic accompaniment.
My fillet of pork with sauté potatoes flavoured with parsley, shallots and garlic (£20) was lush and moist, the small discs of pork retaining their flavour and complemented by one of those perfect sauces – a meaty bath with just a whiff of sweetness – while the soft, garlicky potatoes melted on the tongue.
We advanced, inevitably, towards the dessert menu. My companion's sticky toffee pudding with butterscotch sauce and clotted cream (£8) was sinfully gooey and delicious, while my white, dark and milk chocolate mousse with a praline cream (£8.50) was a delicate, fluffy tower although there wasn't quite enough praline cream to temper the chocolate overload.
We lingered over coffee, watching the shadows play on the walls, feeling replete, and only staggered out of the door after three hours had ticked by and Maule himself had done the rounds of the tables to say hello to his guests.
Perhaps his cuisine is just too simple for Michelin's tastes. There are no amuses-bouche on offer, and the dishes are simple and unfussy, in contrast to the over-evolved culinary contortions to be seen on some Michelin-starred menus. There is no sommelier – rather a fleet of knowledgeable waiting staff who know their wines – and the design of the restaurant is simple, if verging on the staid.
There are a few details lacking – our waitress seemed to have forgotten how to smile – and our table, cosy as it was by the wall, was right next to a noticeable crack in the paintwork. Meanwhile a large, flimsy card with the restaurant's logo on it languished on our table throughout the meal for no discernible reason.
But these, to me at least, are minor quibbles. Maule himself recently said that even if he didn't have a star he cooked, ultimately, for his customers – "If they keep coming back because of the quality food that is served on their plate, then I can't ask for much more than that."
I agree. Anyway, there's always next year.
The full article contains 896 words and appears in The Scotsman newspaper.
