Suburban delights well worth a journey

RESTAURANT review

The Giffnock Ivy

219 Fenwick Road, Giffnock

(0141-620 1003)

THE Bill

Dinner for two, £53, excluding drinks

I LIVE IN fear of the boundary charge. You know, that point on a taxi journey when you start spotting Tescos the size of Phaeton and B&Qs that look like they should have their own MSP, and a mysterious new amount flickers onto the LED screen of the fare meter – a final warning that you are now entering The Suburbs. Fine places in and of themselves of course, but all wrong sounding, somehow, for a night out. Whatever sunny disposition you may have set out upon your trip with, by the time you've arrived at your destination it's more than likely been replaced by a recalcitrantly grumpy this-had-better-be-good-enough-to-warrant-that-extortionate-fare demeanour.

Step forward then The Ivy, nestled in the Glasgow suburb of Giffnock, a staple of the area which recently changed hands to become a French/Scottish affair with some serious designs on the local restaurant scene. I took my friend Karen, a resident of London town who thinks nothing of travelling for hours in pursuit of a decent plate of food, and we duly paid our taxi fare and piled into the low-lit room.

The décor is simple and pleasing, not overtly fashionable, but by the time you've been handed a menu you've long since stopped noticing what's on the walls. Ambitious both in scale and scope, it's the type that has your mouth watering while your mind cynically wonders whether they can really pull all this off. Both of us had our attention caught by the final starter on the menu – also offered as a main course – of Stornoway black pudding topped with Loch Fyne scallops, celeriac purée and sweet chilli sauce (£7.95 or £15.45). But before we had a chance to order, our attentive waiter had materialised with an amuse bouche of that very dish. It was a strange move but not unwelcome, and the meaty scallops were a surprisingly tasty combination with the Stornoway black pudding, if ever so slightly drowned by the sweet chilli.

That dish down then, we each plumped for something different entirely. My homemade foie gras with star anise bread, rock salt and maple syrup jelly (£8.95) was one of those dishes that I will be dreaming about for weeks. The foie gras was so smooth it could have been working for Barry White, and melted tantalisingly on the tongue without being cloying. The lightly toasted star anise bread was an inspired accompaniment, as was the subtly flavoured maple syrup jelly, blobs of which I piled onto my loaded fork to add just a hint of sweetness without overpowering the dreamy taste of the other ingredients. I have paid twice as much for foie gras in restaurants and received poorer quality and smaller portions.

Karen's crispy French goats cheese with Mediterranean tapenade and ratatouille (£5.25) was another triumph, tangy and piquant, the goats cheese just the right side of salty and the tapenade bringing the flavours of the dish together. Karen mopped up every last drop with a piece of freshly baked onion bread.

And so to the main events. I went for the haggis stuffed chicken with Glenmorangie whisky sauce (£11.95). This is a difficult dish to get right, partly because it has become such a ubiquitous menu staple in Scotland, but this was in a class of its own. The haggis was superb – creamy and not too spicy, the chicken wrapped in some wonderfully crispy pancetta, and it arrived with a perfectly proportioned mound of aromatic crushed potato.

Karen's chorizo stuffed monkfish with saffron and mussel sauce and cherry tomato chutney (£16.95) was a brave dish that, despite her initial misgivings about the combination of flavours, really sang. Although we both felt the pancetta wrapped around the great hunks of fish was slight overkill, the chorizo made for a meaty combination that worked beautifully with the musky, fragrant tones of the saffron and mussel sauce, and Karen raved about the juicy flavours of the cherry tomato chutney.

Of course we couldn't resist dessert. Karen's lemon tart with lavender ice-cream (£4.95) was a mixed bag. The ice-cream was creamy, aromatic and subtly flavoured, but while the lemon of the tart was a deliciously smooth citrus concoction, the base was hard as rock, and could have been done with being taken out of the freezer a good hour earlier. My strawberry and raspberry millefeuille with fig ice-cream (£4.95) suffered a similar fate: the millefeuille was, as all our dishes were, exquisitely presented but the berries were frozen in the middle. Another disappointment accompanied the dessert – we had planned on enjoying a glass of dessert wine each, but there was none on the menu.

Ah well. These are, I'm sure, teething troubles. When we went the place had been open for less than two weeks and was perhaps suffering from first fortnight nerves. But with excellent service, a genuinely exciting menu and flavour bursting from every dish, the Ivy is a fantastic addition to the Glasgow restaurant scene.

Is it worth the boundary charge? Every penny.