The Herald - The Herald Magazine
Italian New, brave and run by a husband and wife team – surely the magic recipe?
WWE took the car and went on a far-flung meander to Apulia on Italy’s heel last year, staying in Peschici while we soaked up the sun and lazed by the Adriatic. I remember ice-cold beer, lots of olive oil chillis and even the odd plate of aglio e olio.
If there was any tiella on offer in the many restaurants we lounged in while on the Gargano, I didn’t see it. And having tasted some here tonight, rain howling down on Glasgow’s Hyndland Street outside, that’s a shame.
This apparent Apulian classic of arborio rice, potato – yes, starch and starch together is a relatively common Italian style but don’t tell MasterChef – and tomatoes, has been enhanced with some Scottish mussels. It’s not wet and creamy like risotto, but relatively dry and rich; the rice, potato and oil melding into a simple yet pleasant taste.
There were, of course, plenty of those little orecchiette available in Peschichi, pasta served, like tonight, with turnip tops, pecorino and tomato. And if we’d looked hard enough we may have come upon some of these famously hand-made fusilli from Gragnano in nearby Campania; bronze-extruded, air-dried, served tonight in Glasgow with whole baby calamari.
Yes, this is another Italian restaurant in the city but one that’s trying to be a little different. The decor here is relaxed and comfortable, easy on the eye, no national flags or team photos, the music a gentle selection of Christmas tunes.
Hang on. Yes, I did say Christmas tunes. In October. I can only assume the chatty manager who zips about pleasantly here, there and everywhere has understandably tuned into his very own sound system.
Anyway, we have good arancini to start as Bing croons, those deep-fried Italian rice balls stuffed variously with scamorza and nduja, meaty ragu or just flavoured with saffron. I order them at £5.95. Then panic when I notice the word “or” appearing between their flavour descriptions. “Mamma mia, £5.95 each,” I say to Debs and Luca and, later, to the manager when he asks for feedback. For an Italian staple streetfood? It turns out that’s the price for a plate of three. Phew. Bargain then.
Talking about snacks, we have already had popizze, or fried pizza dough with salt and seaweed. Warning – incoming nostalgia moment: when we were children and my mum made these, as she did regularly, there was no seaweed, but they were occasionally stuffed with one salty alici – or anchovy – each and always, always, studded with fennel seed. We called them shoosh. I have no idea how to spell that or whether it’s a dialect or family name, but they were delicious. These are obviously not as good as mum’s or my nonna’s (what could be?) but great to see them on a menu.
Good, too, to see my absolute favourite