TO THE very scruffy end of Glasgow's Victoria Road then.

Downhill past the Lidl, on past the McDonald's turn-off almost across from the old Larkfield Tram depot. Here, in that dead ring that surrounds all city centres, standing below a low-key sign, looking through plate glass to an interior of wall-to-wall matching plywood, people queued from very early on this cold Sunday morning.

I know this because when I roll up at 11am and take a wobbly, bendy, ricketty bamboo chair looking back out that window at a rubbish-strewn wasteland with a sculpture that looks like a blue bird made of pallettes crashed heavily on take-off, I can hear them talking about it.

"Sorry, that's all we have left now," repeats the slim man behind the counter, while his slim wife behind him in the bakery spreads white chocolate buttercream on a cake baked with almond. The very last one. Before them and right in front of the door are two giant trays of focaccia cut into slices the size of shoe boxes and covered, in at least one case, with hand hewn vegetable that at first glance spark frightening flashbacks of the days when tree-hugging enthusiasts with lively minds but deadly tastebuds opened salad bars and right-on cafes in the name of planet-saving whole foods.

I would have turned and left on seeing the focaccia had I not already known that the Bakery 47 couple here have spent a few years delivering Sunday bakes by internet order to South Side homes - including, occasionally, mine - and are interesting.

On that very first delivery day, their genuinely homemade sourdough almond croissants caused us to pause and peer suspiciously at their size, their heft, that completely obvious lack of lightness. Then we tasted them and they were wow-try-this fabulous, somehow proving that the science of baking - because that's what it is - when mastered can fool even the eye.

We're rarely in on Sunday mornings but from the long weekly emails sent to all customers which bubble and babble cheerfully and occasionally gush at length, though never annoyingly, it's been clear the couple have been hacking their way through that wasteland that separates way-too-enthusiastic amateurs from skilled professionals.

This plywood-lined bakery cum cafe, with its hand-scrawled signs, completely erratic opening and closing times, bake-then-open-til-sell-out mentality is clearly the move to commercial professionalism.

Business on a shoe-string? Why not? But wouldn't it be a good idea if you bake and someone else sells instead of doing both yourselves? Hey, what do I know?

The food? The unlikely sounding sweet potato, new potato and gruyere focaccia has a crisp, clean deliciously crunchy perfectly fired base, leading to a creamy, pillowy soft interior and the topping, odd though it seems at first, is superbly seasoned and delicious.

The red onion and gruyere focaccia with sweet little crisped onion wisps atop that same perfectly fired delicious dough is even better. Outstanding flavours. Though later, when I take my mum a bit, we will wonder if it actually is a focaccia.

I bought the last bit of shortbread and while perhaps not full-butter it, too, is excellent. Why is so hard to get good shortbread in Scotland?

Anyway, that almond cake is light, though I loathe buttercream and now I have to keep getting up to pay a totally separate guy who operates what seems to be a separate coffee concession. But it's a pleasant experience to sit here among the families, the couples holding hands and watch as customer after customer comes through the door to a new business that was born in internetland. The baking is different from the seasoned professionalism of the bread-orientated Tapa Bakehouse in the East End say or the perfect pastries at Cottonrake in the West End.

They have their own style here. And as the queues testify. People like it.

Bakery 47

76 Victoria Road

Glasgow

No phone, www.bakery47.com

Menu: Huge righteous traybakes of sourdough foccacia, shortbread, cakes and those almond croissants. They bake, they sell, they run out, they close. 3

Atmosphere: You can take plain vanilla decor too far. In here it's plywood walls, plywood counter, plywood a go-go with a panoramic view of the rubbish-strewn end of Victoria Road. 3

Service: Nice young couple who keep asking "is it alright?" while doing everything from baking to delivering to selling and waiting tables. 5

Price: Honestly? They're not charging enough. A slab of sourdough pizza the size of a shoe-box at £3, shortbread £1 or so. 5

Food: Poised between extremely talented amateur and full-on professionalism, their food is at the slightly clumsy artisany end for looks, but at the gifted end for flavour. A new bakery is born. 8

Total: 24/30