Mexican street food?

Now there's an intriguing prospect. Mind you, you never know what's going to turn up on a Mexican street these days, what with drug cartels dumping miscellaneous body parts all over the shop. But there's no such lawlessness at Pinto in Glasgow, just a faithful attempt to give us proper Mexican food, as opposed to US-style Tex Mex, or worse, UK-style Haven't Got A Clue Mex.

"Our Ethos" says the Pinto blurb, "is to deliver a healthy, fresh, fun, fast, casual Mexican street food restaurant group". That last word seems aspirational in that Pinto has only one outlet as yet, in Glasgow. But there must certainly be scope for more branches, given the undeniable truth that Mexican food is never truly delivered or executed here the way it is on its home turf.

Pinto looks so disconcertingly fast food, it's off-putting. These days, even McDonald's is aping Starbucks and cultivating a cooler, less corporate look. But with its vibrant chilli pepper scarlet and lime green colour scheme, staff with baseball hats and raucous music blasting out, Pinto is as discreet as a Mariachi band.

Pinto talks the language of provenance, but in woolly terms, pledging "only naturally raised chicken and pork" and making play of its use of Red Tractor beef. Recently, Compassion in World Farming debunked the myth that Red Tractor stands for much more than minimum legal standards, so a free-range/Freedom Foods/organic guarantee would be more to the point. That said, it's heartening that Pinto promises that its herb and spice blends are milled every week in small batches to keep their potency and freshness, that it eschews the use of the microwave and freezer, and that its food is prepared fresh daily.

Even people well accustomed to ordering food at fast food counters, from those illuminated displays above the heads of serving staff, may find the options at Pinto baffling. Perhaps I'm a slow learner, but I had to get the person serving to explain the permutations twice. Those vertical and horizontal columns reminded me of log tables, or algebraic equations, a sort of A plus B equals C proposition, with A being the starchy bit of the equation (burrito, nachos, tacos etc), B being the filling, and C being miscellaneous permutations of add-ons, such as cheese, sour cream, pickles.

In Leon, the upmarket fast food chain in London, variations on a dish are easier to grasp. A poached egg cup, for instance, comes in three forms – Gruyere and truffle, with chorizo, or with ham hock. Even I can understand that. But at Pinto my head was reeling and I left with the distinct feeling that I could have ordered much better, and would have enjoyed the whole experience more if it had been served from a menu at a table, after explanation and deliberation, not standing up, at a counter, with a queue forming behind.

Still, the food that I did end up with was better than I expected. A soup of black bean and chipotle chilli, with corn off the cob and pico de gallo salsa, was veg-packed and full of satisfying textures. It was also so mouth-numbingly chilli-hot as to suggest a no-compromise attitude to authentic Mexican spicing. A malleable burrito, stuffed with moist and exotically spiced shredded beef, made a meal in itself. I could have done without the rice (added automatically), not being a fan of starch upon starch, ditto Monterey Jack cheese, which despite being just what you'd get in Mexico, is a bland commodity for which more interesting local equivalents, like cheddar, could be substituted. But with a dollop of sour cream, crunchily fresh cos lettuce, and a dribble of aptly named "Hell of a hot Habanero" chilli salsa, it constituted a great deal at £5.45. Our tacos with slow cooked pork were even better, because they had no rice.

If you do visit Pinto, I can recommend the velvety guacamole, better for soothing a chilli-inflamed palate than any chilled beer.

Pinto

138 Queen Street, Glasgow, 0141 221 9330

Lunch/dinner £5.45-10

Food rating 7½/10