The Big Counter

Glasgow

THE family have already been dragged by me up two flights of stairs at Billy McNeill’s old pub to a Japanese pop-up restaurant that’s – oops – not actually popping up tonight.

And now Luca is sent schlepping from the car across Victoria Road to a random restaurant with no name to grab a menu with no name and ask if they have any tables for people with no name.

Well, no booking anyway.

Why? When we are so close to McDonald's? I am not currently hugely popular. Not even slipping in, sitting down, ordering fast and lacing the arrival of the Gildas with some top dad chat about these fishy banderillas being named for Rita Hayworth say, 70 years ago, in San Sebastian.

Your mum and I drove there once in a Fiat Uno, I say. At the Bar Casa Vallès. Helps much.

These sensations of chilli, pickle and that magical anchovy are, as always, so significantly more than the sum of their pintxo parts that they slip down tonight with a double umami tingle whilst Roy Orbison oozes Only The Lonely. Directly at moi. Over the sound system. Hmm.

On the counter behind us, treacly brown bread, a crispy crust we can see and hear from here, is being hewn into hunks and soft butter spread thick with an actual spoon by a chirpy, cheery waitress, who it will turn out later – in an oooh-Sally-moment – my wife taught in primary school. Aw.

We look about. Chefs hustle pans at open flames, tattooed cool dudes eat boquerone, and is that actually the sous chef from Cail Bruich dining up there, those are definitely the bakers from Two-Eight-Seven sitting by the window.

We’re warming up. This place has a buzz about it. Even on a Sunday night.

Yet, and after interrogating the menu, we still don’t know what it’s called. Nor really have a clue what we have ordered. Spring onion and garlic? Cue teeth sucking moment as we try and guess what’s coming.

Remember that scene in The Godfather where Paulie razors the garlic into slivers? Nah? Well, anyway that’s what they do with it here. Then fry the flakes til sweet and golden, pile them like heaped almonds over gooey spring onions that have been sautéed in butter and rush it all to the table. It’s good.

A pyramid of surf clams or vongole, hunks of chorizo, vibrant green leaves of chard is here now too, perched amidst a soup of cider and herbs, steamed aromas rising here, there and everywhere.

A left-field, slightly crackpot, potato terrine is next. Layer after dense layer of potato, comte cheese, wholegrain mustard. Caramba! Maybe a bit more stock when preparing the terrine?

Yet, this is food we want to eat. A kind of chef’s roulette where they make what they want and you make what you want of it.

I’m half expecting a cuddly toy next. But it’s a burger. Brought out from the open kitchen by another chef who expresses momentary surprise that it’s just for me. Sigh.

Probably this is what burgers should taste like. A perky brioche bun, shining with healthiness, bashed, smashed meat sizzled to a crisp at the edges but still soft in the middle, cheese, a pickle, some diced onion, burger. And it’s supremely light. Though oddly one section is too salty.

Of course, the best bit, the dish which is fairly common even in Scotland nowadays, we watch being cooked with heads turned and necks twisted, pan bouncing, dark green padron peppers blistering, Parmesan micro-grating saltiness all over the top, crimson Speck then folded and layered on the plate, before it’s brought out and all of it eaten. By all of us. Quickly.

The restaurant’s called The Big Counter, Sally will tell us later. Not actually written down or painted up, or printed out anywhere because…well, probably because they don’t need to. Judging by the number of people in here tonight.

Satisfied customers? We certainly are. And that’s all of us.

The Big Counter

76 Victoria Road

Glasgow

@bigcounter

Menu: Spring onion and garlic, a cheeseburger, egg and anchovy mayonnaise, potato terrine. They’ll say eclectic, I’ll say whatever they fancy making and none the worse for it. 4/5

Service: Cheery, chirpy, bright and breezy with staff who seem to want to be there, and chefs who wander over to ask what you think of the food. 5/5

Price: The most expensive thing on the menu was clams, chorizo and cider at £14; cheeseburger a tenner, those spring onions and garlic £4. The bread was £3. 4/5

Atmosphere: On a Sunday night with Roy on the sound system, chefs flaming, staff smiling, customers yacking and dishes surprising, it’s a good place to be. 4/5

Food: Those spring onions with garlic, the Gildas, the clams and cider. Relaxed food to sprawl around and take your time with. Not flawless, but still very, very good. 8/10

25/30