Malaysian Drooling and dripping at one of the hottest restaurants in Glasgow

JULIE’S KOPITIAM

IT’S A sun-drenched evening on Pollokshaws Road. Which is just as well because out there right now are little groups of well-dressed Glasgow people hesitantly wandering up and down trying to work out where to go until a table becomes free in here.

I would have been joining them, probably in the Georgic a couple of doors away, had a woman at a two-seater inside Julie’s Kopitiam not looked up as my mobile number was being taken and as 45-minute waits were being mentioned – and indicated she was leaving soon.

I squeeze across from this life-saving stranger and 20 minutes later am slurping up coconut chilli kerabu salad. Strands of vermicelli noodles, dusted with grated coconut, soused in fish sauce, zingy lime, chilli and mint leaves completely refusing to obey my chop-sticks, slapping everywhere, drooling and dripping and probably making me look even dopier than usual.

Yes, I could have used a fork but it’s sometimes better just to stay in the moment. Easier handling of the chunks of cool, clean chilli bean cucumber; salted black beans, garlic and soy give the whole thing a cool, moist punch.

Incidentally, we’re now chatting at this table about the trip the lady will take to Sicily for a wedding as she waits for her dessert to be boxed to take home. It’s that kind of place. Something of that chatty, conspiratorial buzz that flies about when people pile into a restaurant that’s just-been-discovered brand new and full of promise. This has actually been on the map for some months but there’s no sign of the rush receding as the door is framed, as it has constantly since I arrived, by people inquiring about tables.

They don’t take bookings in here and why would they? Who would risk no-shows and slack tables when the place is clearly already a sensation. It does mean, though, that generally people have to find somewhere nearby for a coffee or a drink while a table becomes free. A good spin-off for other local businesses.

Anyway, I have large sweet mooli fritters with XO sauce and shrimp to deal with. And then sweetcorn fritters. The latter packed to bursting with nuggets of sweetcorn and also made with mooli, but with a sweeter flavour than the plain notvanilla versions.

We’re discussing here why the south side of Glasgow suddenly seems to be bursting with great little restaurants or cafes. There’s Ranjit’s Kitchen, of course, and Pot Luck about half a mile away from here and, a block or two on the right of that, Tempura Kiro, where I was last week. They’re all small, slightly homespun, probably lower rent, yet they have that hands-on personal feel that it takes to ignite the internet touchpaper today. Now, I’ll switch table sides when the other seat becomes free – who likes to sit with their back to the door and especially a door where there’s non-stop activity? – and order up the tamarind pork belly and mushrooms for a tenner.

The main courses, or larger dishes as it always is nowadays, include a laksa, sambal fried hake and a nasi goreng. At first I’m not sure about this tamarind pork. Given the fireworks with all three dishes I’ve already eaten and the deft, well-thought-out balance to the flavours, there’s not much punch to these mushrooms in soy, but the simple strips of pork are so heavily and sweetly marinated they could be a snack by

PHOTOGRAPH BY COLIN MEARNS Julie’s Kopitiam is already something of a sensation, with well-thought-out dishes that not only look good but are packed with flavour