Mamasan

Glasgow

PUT the culinary buzz phrases coal-roasted and baby chicken in the same sentence, add the word satay and what have you got? Sixteen quid, please.

Wow, is what I mutter when I see this on the menu at Mamasan, plumped as I am currently on a green banquette, fake jungly fronds a-dangling from the ceiling, big, blown glass lamps crawling in soft gold up the textured black wallpaper.

Wow, again as my eyes alight on the tiny-print side dishes and spot mushroom and bone marrow fried rice, six bangers to you, bud.

Elsewhere Iberico porks – is there any other kind these days – jostle with confit ducks, and Native Lobsters (whatever they are) on the big bold laminate menu.

Is Jamie Oliver in the house, I’m wondering as the eye meanders idly through en vogue south Asian-style seasonings and flavours but, nah, Mamasan is apparently a pure, dead Glasgow creation.

Meanwhile, cocktails ooze smoothly from that bar back there and head out on trays towards packed booths; fire flashing, smoke billowing, smokey scents hanging lazily from that semi-open kitchen under the mezzanine.

And I’m right now mid chat with a waiter about these interesting sounding £3.50 edamame from the, ahem, pre-starter starter menu.

Nodding to the frankly bog-standard looking, everywhere-nowadays beans in their pods in a bowl I’m asking him: erm, where’s the chilli and salted coconut element in this?

What with the masks, the surging washing machine music – apparently Holding On by Girls of the Internet since you ask– and the hubba-bubba of downtown city-centre Tuesday night chatter we’re not understanding each other.

Three times he tries to explain patiently what edamame are, then looks blankly, understandably, as I try to say in a way that doesn’t make me look like the madman I clearly am, that it’s the flavourings I’m looking for.

Now he’s off. Two minutes later he’s back with a bowl of what looks like like powdered chilli, offering to top up my pods. Nooo.

Well, that explains one thing at least. Sucking these beans from their pods sets the tongue afire, but as for the promised salted coconut flavours? Nada, niente, nothing.

Edamame beans with powdered chilli then? Can't see that catching on.

After this slothful start and having forked up some of that £6 side dish of rice and decided it is way too greasy and that rice is completely under seasoned, it’s all becoming a bit ho-hum.

Yes, I momentarily take my hat off to anyone who can get £7 for four cauliflower florets, roasted in south Indian spicing, served with a mountain of sweetly tangy tomato kasundi and a thin, watery and bland mint and coriander chutney that tastes of neither. But wowed, I ain’t.

Then an amazing thing happens. I discover I’m writing a note to myself saying: there has clearly not been enough palm sugar in my life.

Let me put you fully in the picture here. A banana leaf cone arrives, they get through a lot of those in here, dusted, golden fried squid strips spilling out enticingly, uh-oh more rubber coming, I think.

But no. The squid is perfectly textured, the coating sweet, just lightly crisp, with a micro crunch, a whiff of ginger, an after-blast of proper pepper. The whole thing so hot damn good I want to order even more when I too-quickly finish them.

A confit duck leg is here already though, seared. It’s as pleasant and rich as confit duck usually is, a fresh and fragrant pool of red curry, seared pineapple hunks in sufficient quantity to sweet and sour each mouthful: simple, enjoyable.

And then that coal-roasted concoction touches down, blackened bits, bubbling here and there, quartered, squeezed over a nasi-goreng cake, wilted pak-choi beneath, that all turns the dish into a fairly substantial, warmly comforting, occasionally moist sequence of wham-bams that makes me reconsider that £16 price tag and think, yeah, that too was worth it.

Mamasan

222 Ingram Street

Glasgow

0141 739 1550

Menu: South Asian flavours meet modern and occasionally Scottish ingredients in an on-the-button take on downtown dining. 4/5

Atmosphere: Decor’s a bit Disney goes dark, though you may find it a warm and jungly vibe. Busy on a dank Tuesday night. 4/5

Service: They do their jobs well, not much time to linger and chat which is always good. Surging music doesn’t help. 4/5

Price: Vast city centre location in amongst the expensive shops. Prices are salty but not over the top. 3/5

Food: Some duff stuff; that £6 rice, those pointlessly flavoured edamame. Fabulous palm sugar squid was the dish of the night. 7/10

22/30