THE last time I reviewed one of Nico’s places he had a Catalonian menu on the go. And caramba, had I not just returned from eating at El Celler De Can Roca and Compartir? In Catalonian Catalonia.

I was a bit disappointed with normally-good Nico’s take on the Catalonian scene. This time I’m reviewing another of Nico’s restaurants - he’s on a restaurant roll - and it’s called the Hebridean. And I’ve just returned from … no not the Hebrides.

In fact I haven’t returned from anywhere yet. I’m writing this right now in Gothenburg in Sweden. And it’s not the menu - which actually isn’t really that Hebridean - that strikes a chord. It’s the prices. Either Glasgow is becoming very expensive or Nico is becoming more expensive. Or it’s a bit of both.

I don’t think these prices would be far out of place in similar restaurants in Scandinavia. The weird thing is this though: I could actually pay less for six courses at Nico’s flagship restaurant just a stone’s throw away, than three courses plus snack at The Hebridean.

How much tonight? On my own? Food? Just over £35. Not outrageous. But remember this is pub food. Hold on, I hear you say, didn’t The Hebridean used to be called The Public House (by Nico)?

And wasn’t it the case that it: a) didn’t look or feel like a pub and b) didn’t serve pub food? Correct. But, and a waiter tells me this with a straight face, Nico went to the Hebrides to research for Six by Nico and he was so impressed that he immediately decided to remodel The Public House. Which of course wasn’t really a public house anyway.

Confused? I am. More so because there isn’t much innovation on the menu from The Hebrides. Seaweed maybe, Uig Lodge smoked salmon kind-of, Stornoway Black Pudding hmm, bits n’ bobs.

So it’s not officially a pub anymore and it still doesn’t feel like a pub despite the Harris Tweed wingbacks and the kitschy feel, but it is now pub food.

Now, if you’re still with me: here comes the bit that shows how much restaurant critics know. When I came to the Public House on a Tuesday night a few months ago (and really liked the flavours) it was deader than a Hebridean dodo.

This time, same night, it’s absolutely mobbed. I can’t even get a seat at a table. I plonk myself at the little waiting area as staff flit here and there and customers come and go. There’s so much foot traffic (and I picked my first seat) I have to move to another. Where I eat. Seaweed.

I love seaweed. Go to the See-Woo cash n carry and see what the Koreans do with it. Amazing. Read what Americans are planning to do with it: a miracle. And yet very Scottish.

In Gothenburg I have just had Saithe (available in Scotland), fennel (ditto), mussels (uh-huh), clams (yip) and chopped seaweed flavouring it. Boom, brilliant. Here it’s a £3.50 snack. Deep fried, sprinkled with salt and… uh? Where’s the flavour. Think giant and very oily crisps.

I have a pig’s head terrine (also too oily) which is a deep fried, but moistly meaty atop a thin slice of super crispy, and thankfully not oily, Stornway black pudding. The terrine is very heavy, the oatmeally pudding very good.

Other starter choices? Arbroath Smokie Croquettes (£8), Uig Lodge Smoked Salmon (£12.50), Gigha Oysters (£14). Mains include The Hebridean Chicken Pie (£13), Angus Burger (£12.50) and I have an Orkney Ox Cheek Steak Pie at £14. For the pie alone.

Now this is a pie, in a pie tin, fashionable hollow bone as a funnel, a very thin (maybe too thin) crust of pastry. The meat is cubed finely, in a bland gravy. I end up chasing tiny pieces around the bottom of the tin looking desperately for flavour. Not much found. The ubiquitous triple-cooked chips add £3.50.

A Creme Brulee to finish? It’s pleasant and £7. Do I like? At this price? Not much.