A’Challtainn

54 Calton Entry, Glasgow

0141 552 2337

Lunch/Dinner: £18-£30

Food rating 7½/10

AN ambitious project is underway in Glasgow’s historic Barras market: an atmospheric “food quarter" with a cluster of small, independent food-led businesses, envisioned as the belly of the regenerated the Barras Art and Design Centre (BAaD). The space, a traditional market hall, lends itself to such an enterprise. Its architecture imbues it effortlessly with the atmosphere of London’s Borough Market, an authenticity that modern retail schemes ape, but miserably fail to achieve.

If BAaD was in Brixton or Shoreditch, it would already be crawling with hipsters, and any locals clinging on would be complaining volubly about social cleansing. There are indeed signs of embourgeoisement at BAaD. The ground floor courtyard has units running around it that already house a vinyl record shop, and a couple of other supremely cool concerns. But this isn’t central London where legions of well-paid workers flood out of offices in search of an interesting lunch. The Barras, so near to, yet so psychologically disconnected from the footfall of the city centre, could withstand a fair measure of fashionable upward mobility before it reaches the point where characterful drabness is snuffed out by cruising crowds of tourists.

And while Borough Market is dark, almost Dickensian, this architecture dates back to a more modern, more optimistic era. The building has been sympathetically renovated. Perched up on the airy mezzanine is the new A’Challtainn restaurant, (The Calton for non-Gaels), a venture brought to us by the duo that was behind the successful 2014 pop-up Fish Plaice, and Heverlee at Tontine Lane.

On a weekday lunchtime it still had the feel of a restaurant that hadn't quite bedded down. For starters, BAaD was hard to find, not least because its entry was blocked off by a debris-filled skip. Get those creative types working on some signage. But dynamism bubbles out unstoppably, and when we finally found it, A’Challtainn’s gallery space put a smile on our faces. Up in this eyrie there’s room to breathe and time to appreciate the building’s pleasing proportions, and its herringbone parquet and flagstones. A colossal mural, Cubist in its colour and boldness, towers over the bar from a neighbouring warehouse wall.

This is a place where you’d want to meet people even if the food wasn’t that hot. Actually, our meal was more than promising, although there is certainly work still to be done on the food.

Seafood, simply cooked, is what this restaurant seems to do so well. I love the flexibility of being able to order langoustines individually, £3 a pop, pretty keen pricing for such plump specimens, sat upon samphire in a pool of garlicky butter. Five big, grilled sardines also felt like a good deal for £9. Of course this is brasserie food, but our succulent rabbit loin with a beignet of crunchily-breadcrumbed leg meat, Jerusalem artichoke purée, tender kale leaves, and harmonious gravy, flagged up the presence of a CV in the kitchen that features some fine dining establishments.

Overall though, the prevailing style of cooking here is as yet unclear. Little balls of roasted sweet potato and frills of kale came atop quinoa, with a “savoury granola” and herb oil. It read like an Ottolenghi dish, but didn’t have his panache or assurance with flavours; the hazelnuts in the granola tasted stale. An “adding plate” of “crispy Brussels sprouts with pine nuts and home-cured pancetta” didn’t convert my dining companion to the joys of this vegetable; the sprouts weren’t crisp, hot, or hammy enough.

We were bemused to find that the crumble – of apple, plum, and pear – came naked, so to speak, minus any cream, ice cream or custard. Somewhat watery in its own right, it really needed an accompaniment to help it out. The humidity of a perfectly pleasant cranachan had softened unflatteringly the thin shortbread biscuits between which it was sandwiched. A gummy coulis did it no favours either.

BAaD’s food quarter certainly deserves to take off. Here’s hoping that when A’Challtainn really gets its act together, it reaches critical mass. What this whole endeavour really needs is an artisan bakery at ground level. This would boost daily retail custom and furnish A’Challtainn with better bread. Anyone interested?