Lagom Kitchen

76 Victoria Road

Glasgow

0141 237 2424

Menu: Asparagus and beetroot hummus, pork belly with corn fritter. Basically, stuff you want to eat for lunch. 4/5

Service: Calm, friendly and pleasant. No complaints for me. 4/5

Atmosphere: Plain vanilla decor, open kitchen, bakes on show. Always gently buzzing during weekdays, a bit more under siege at weekends. 4/5

Price: The asparagus salad was £6.60, the glazed pork belly £8. At this quality of cooking it’s good value. 5/5

Food: Light, thoughtful dishes that look great and also taste pretty good. Off grid becoming a bit mainstream and better for it. 8/10

25/30

WE’RE at that bit of Glasgow’s Victoria Road where traffic rarely ventures on account of The Man having years ago built two ferocious bus gates – or car traps – turning it into a gently lapping commercial backwater. Not on the face of it a great spot for new cafes to venture then. Especially when that once-thriving bus depot across the road shuddered and then disappeared. Completely.

Yet, whether it’s low rates, no rates or bargain basement rents this little stretch of dog-eared low rise units has somehow defiantly blossomed. There was a Latvian coffee and cakes place next door for almost a whole nanosecond. Then the tiny hand-knitted Japanese restaurant Tempura Kiro flowered there briefly before disappearing in what may have been a strong west wind.

It’s spot has already been taken by something noodley that I have yet to get to, it being shut last time I tried. And who doesn’t fondly remember Bakery 47, which gave this side of Glasgow just about everything it could want in terms of delicious off-grid handmade, er, baking before it too gently curled up and died.

I say fondly, but there were occasional howls of emailed protest about Bakery 47 from folks who had journeyed deep into this uncharted culinary territory only to discover a hand-written note saying it had shut for the day, or the week or maybe had never actually ever opened that day or that week at all. You took your chances then off grid.

Well, you did until Lagom opened. As I sit here eating crisp strips of glazed pork belly with corn fritter, pineapple, avocado and poached egg I’ve got a confession to make. I didn’t even check it was open before Greg and I headed out of town in search of something light, refreshing and tasty.

That’s the thing about Lagom: I’ve been here about four or five times for lunch recently and not once have I ever paused and wondered if it would be a wasted journey. At weekends, of course, it heaves and surges as people flow through that glass door and linger edgily down there hoping a pokey little table will free up in the raised area where the lucky people are.

But on weekday lunchtimes it seems to strike the perfect balance between gently buzzing and always having at least a couple of free seats. Even if that does mean perching at the window ledge where the seats are way too low for completely comfortable eating or even typo-strewn laptop typing.

The food is bright enough anyway to enthuse even my old mate Greg here who is one of life’s food-is-simply-fuel advocates accounting for his annoying and constant skinniness. He’s been persuaded to have the asparagus salad with its vibrant smear of beetroot hummus, yoghurty labneh, hazelnuts, chilli and dribbles of honey.

Like my plate the whole thing is set off with artfully placed and undoubtedly pretty edible flowers. Not maybe as unusual as they once were now Sainsbury’s and Waitrose have started stocking borage, nasturtium and many of the other more common varieties, but they still make a plate zing with appetising colour.

I had dish this myself the other day and was impressed by its sweet and savoury mixes and the texture switches as I alternatively crunched, chewed and savoured. The only thing I noticed was that the asparagus was in somewhat short supply but with flavours that bold it hardly mattered.

The serving people at Lagom, incidentally, are the sort of gentle folk who politely ask you if you want salt and pepper with your meal, making me slightly embarrassed to ask for those presumably soon-to-be-frowned-upon condiments.

The tiniest sprinkle of both is all it takes to enliven the crisp crunchy pork and to tease the pineapple salad into coming out swinging. Lagom is not as cake and bake orientated as Bakery 47 was but it avoids them having to shut up shop when they run out. And consistency is a great thing.