Bucky beef is just the tonic we all need
East end diner offers Barras load of taste and memories
Ihave been writing about the revival of the Barras, on and off, for the last 20 years. Still waiting for it to really happen. In the 70s, I went there as a customer, looking for rare records, 50s winklepickers, leopardskin coats and fake Transcards. Legend had it there was a stall that sold hooky versions of the magic card that gave you access to all of Greater Glasgow’s green and yellow buses.
I loved it, it was grimy and grotty but with treasures and dodginess in among the cheap net curtains and mince of questionable origin. The years of sports socks, imitation Ugg boots and Disney films as captured on a camcorder, not so much.
The last time I had dinner in the Barras was in 2017, when A’Challtainn brought lobster and pinot grigio to the home of the Old Firm babygro. It’s quite a leap from Bart Simpson proclaiming his love for Rangers at one stall and Celtic at the next to a fancy seafood restaurant and A’Challtainn is no longer with us.
In its place are a couple of more casual dining places, including Smokey Trotters Kitchen. Having taken their oozing burgers to various popups over the last few years, they have found a permanent home beside St Alphonsus church.
I had glimpsed it on my last bargain-hunting mission – the space backs on to one of the covered markets full of Murano glass clowns, Victorian chamber pots and everything inbetween. When the stalls are shut, it’s accessed through a pend, across a graffiti-covered courtyard and into a basic but bright room with a giant Frida Kahlo on the wall.
The menu is American diner via Glasgow’s east end. There are grilled cheese sandwiches – I think we call them toasties – mac and cheese, fancy fries, nuclear-hot cauliflower for the vegans, that sort of thing.
There is a section for children, with the proviso “if yer in High School you’re no’ a wean” which would be tough if you were a small 12-year-old with a bird-like appetite. But given the area’s
reputation for the gallus, it’s maybe a sensible precaution.
The Teenager, who thought the kid’s menu was a cop-out by age nine, viewed it all approvingly.
There are no actual starters (or desserts). I thought chicken tenders would be a good place to start. The Teen rejected Korean, buffalo or Nashville-style and requested the Vietnamese version. Shame, I would have liked to see a strip of chicken in cowboy boots singing about how tough it is to be fried in batter when your woman has left you but that will have to wait for another day.
They were hot and crispy, striped with sriracha, hoisin and mayo. The coriander and crunchy spots of onion elevated them above fast food status.
Beef cooked in Buckfast is a house speciality (there’s even a painting of a Bucky bottle filled with flowers in among all the Frida K). It was one of the toppings on the Teen’s Cheeky Wee Cow burger, along with cheese, bone marrow butter, pickled onions and truffle mayo.
It was very good – the meat is cooked to a deep meltiness that makes the caffeinated tonic wine untasteable. The other elements reminded me of my very favourite burger ever, El Perro Negro’s stunning Top Dog. This was a rougher, readier version, with orange cheddar instead of
Roquefort, making it completely appropriate for the Barras.
I could have had more Bucky beef in my tacos – described on the menu as “scheme style” – but I liked the sound of the fried haddock version. These were also good. The fish was gently battered and expertly fried. There was plenty of it, plus chopped salsa and a pickled slaw that I’ve been trying to recreate ever since.
The actual tacos were not the best. In fact they closely resembled a pack of small wraps I recently bought from Asda. The fish was folded inside, rather than sitting in a shell. However this was easily remedied by removing the filling and just eating that. It meant I had more space for the snobby fries, adorned with grated parmesan, chives and truffle two ways (mayo and oil). If years of class struggle means everyone can eat chips like this, it has been worth it.
Huge puffy onion rings were more of a Teenager’s thing. He would have given these a thumbs up if he was not far too cool for that kind of cringe.
In fact, the whole experience was pretty cool. It would have been even better if the stalls were open and I could have gone browsing for mid-century jugs but, even in a deserted market, it had an unmistakable buzz. Not quite a revival but definitely a step in the right direction.