Suburban gastropub

Neither fine dining nor pub, this place requires a shot of strategic clarity

MGLASGOW aybe I’m getting old. But eight quid for a starter in a room that has football showing on every flat screen and pub music blaring from the speakers? Doesn’t seem quite right. Forget the scallops then. Even if they are served on a bit of slate. How about £7.50 for an Asian beef salad and £6.50 for a fish stew instead. Both, umm, also labelled as starters.

Yes, I can see what you’re thinking. You are thinking has Heston Blumenthal gone completely crackers and opened a gastropub on Glasgow’s south side? These are proper gastropub prices. Much more expensive starters than the brilliant Field in Edinburgh and on a par even with Tom Kitchin’s mucho lauded – though not by me – Scran And Scallie.

OK, joshing over. It’s not Heston Blumenthal gone mad. It’s just more evidence of Glasgow pricing gone mad, even here, deep in the city’s outer limits, where the White Elephant nestles somewhere between a dank railway bridge and a block of modern flats.

Starter pricing aside there’s been an expectant buzz about this place since it opened recently. Why? Let’s just say this very spot, which on paper anyway should be prime middle-class grazing territory, has been blighted by a series of disastrously bad restaurant attempts.

Now it’s had a takeover and a makeover, not just to the menu, and expectations are high. There’s some Shaker-style furniture in the middle of the floor, a three-piece Chesterfield suite and some artfully arranged lamps. Shut one eye to block out the many tellies and the brassy bar area and you know it’s definitely, without a doubt, slightly better looking than it used to be.

Back to the food, then. From the same menu as the starters there’s a main of macaroni cheese which arrives stylishly in a burnished tin on a wooden board. It’s proper old-school macaroni cheese too. None of your fancy American takes on mac ’n’ cheese with their flashy and occasionally delicious extra ingredients. This has a creamy white sauce, more than a hint of cheese, and has been blasted under the grill long enough to make the top golden brown. Nothing wrong with that.

Not much wrong with the rabbit cottage pie either at a more ambitious £13. There’s a lovely and well-seasoned piped mash on top, and a mildly flavoured rabbit stew The food’s not short on culinary ambition although the jury’s out on whether there’s any demand for it underneath with a hint of tarragon. Mildly flavoured? Farmed rabbit is virtually indistinguishable from chicken.

Amazingly, it’s the old-fashioned bowl of vegetables that comes with this that really sparkles.

Flash fried to a crisp, almost smoky sweetness then oiled and seasoned properly, the green beans, parsnip and carrots are totally, utterly delicious. I know. Weird. Promote that vegetable chef?

But what about those starters? Actually, the Asian beef salad with its peanuts and a reasonable attempt at the Thai classic flavours of hot, sweet, sour and salty isn’t bad. But it’s never a starter size and the meat looks clumsily chopped on the plate.

The spicy fish stew? Lets delve into this bowl for a mo’. There are two scallops, some mussels, a chunk of white fish, a prawn and, crikey, is that really two whole dates? Or are they prunes? There’s also a huge amount of roughly hacked onions, a slice of red chilli, a vague hint of fish stock, some cream and a lot of paprika or chilli powder. Is it good? No. The flavours remain watery despite the huge number of ingredients.

Incidentally, in the time that passes

THE WHITE ELEPHANT