Ron Mackenna: Dumpling Inn, Glasgow

On the way to Sauchiehall Street I passed a venerable Glasgow cafe with a very expensive and completely unconvincing new sign announcing that it is also now a burger bar. Well, I've got news. The burger ship has sailed and if you weren't on it then consider yourself lucky because it's going down, fast. Dumplings, on the other hand? They're in vogue. As are a few other dishes which I'll reveal if you send your questions in on a postcard.

Now, back to Dumpling Inn. Strange? You betcha. This stretch of Sauchiehall Street makes Blackpool look tasteful. Let's just say tonight it's also edgy. There's an American woman, I'm assuming a tourist, sitting alone next to me loudly extolling the virtues of a seaweed dish. I order it. The authentic Chinese hamburger? I order it too. On your behalf, by the way. And some Chinese tea. It comes in a can. Ice cold. Sigh.

Meanwhile, there's a very strange screaming sound coming from the basement. It has the handful of customers up here lifting their heads like meerkats then smiling awkwardly at each other. No, I don't know what it is either, love. At least it's not the chefs. I will discover this when I go downstairs to investigate. It's actually some Chinese people in a completely incongruous glass-fronted karaoke booth sandwiched between the toilets. They're not only singing their heads off, but dancing too.

I'd like to claim I joined in and once upon a time I would have done, but upstairs awaits not only an authentic Chinese hamburger but also raw seasoned potato shreds, seaweed, plates of dumplings and braised pork shank. The potato shreds are surprisingly delicious. Garlicky, full of chilli and super strong. I would order lots more but like a moth to the flame I'm drawn to the burger. It's shredded pork on a kind of flat-bread bun that might have been nice when it was fresh. Say, last week.

Interestingly, the separate sliced braised pork shank had prompted a brief post-tea-in-a-can exchange between myself and the waiter when I ordered it. Me: "Is it hot?" Him: "Not very hot." Me: "Is it cold?" Him: "Not very cold." Me: "Ah." The mystery is solved when I taste it. It's reheated, possibly by microwave, and awful.

Better luck with the seaweed, about which the American woman - in the interests of accuracy I should say she may be Canadian - was correct. It's tart and sweet and sour, with sesame oil, and the seaweed is not the traditional British-Chinese shredded cabbage, having a texture I've not tasted since the last time I had, er, jellyfish. But don't let that put you off. It's really very good.

Funny thing is: the dish I actually came for, the dish I had been told was excellent in here, that's actually advertised on the menu as freshly made each day, is the one I turn to last. Dumplings. The pork and cabbage dumplings are light, juicy and fabulous; the ones with pork and celery, pot stickers with crispy seared edges, are maybe even better.

You're right: I should have ignored the sideshow and ordered a variety of them right off. But you live and learn.