A south side sensation

SOME GRUMBLING emanated from this magazine’s command bunker at the realisation that for the fourth or fifth time in recent months Glasgow’s southside cafe land is to feature yet again in this column. Now, hold hard before you join in. There’s a reason for that. And it’s not simply because, as may have been cruelly suggested, I live in the middle of it.

Something is actually happening in what has for too long been a stale and stagnant culinary desert with far fewer gems than it logically should have had. And Gnom here, squeezed tight between a tenement and a bus stop, suddenly overflowing with pressed ham hocks, potato rostis and bijou herb gremolatas, is yet another example of that happening thing.

Yes, we may well still be sliding off the back of a hipster wave that put the beardy in burgers and the craft in beers. And no, that doesn’t mean that the starry-eyed metropolitan devotion to Yotam Ottolenghiish coffee-table recipe books and its onward global march is any more tiresome.

In fact the great thing about Gnom is not the charred pineapple in the desserts, the sesame brittles, the puffed rice, the picallilis or even the tender stem broccoli popping their way on to menus the length and breadth of this very land – though I can see eyes roll in certain sections of Pollokshaws Road at the very thought. It’s simply this: yet another tiny food business has forced its way through the cracks that are finally widening in Glasgow’s traditionally impossible-to-enter-without-a-huge-budget restaurant trade.

It’s not an amateur effort either. This place is comfortable, confident and relaxed, yet zings with a confident professionalism. OK, there have been moments this afternoon when one of the waiters has been so keen to bolt off that I’ve ended up talking to the back of his head. But I get that a lot in real life too.

And yes, you may think that David Chang’s bao bun pork burgers – long a hit in New York – suddenly surfacing here is not exactly big news. They even popped up in the east end of Glasgow a couple of years ago. But when I have mine lightly sandwiching a crispy pork belly that really is crispy, a fried egg and gochujang ketchup (this year’s sriracha) it’s pretty satisfying.

Now. A mini brick of pressed ham hock, fried to a sizzle at the edges, dense and sweet, could be scarily, dangerously salty were it not for the cooling hand-made piccalilli, another yolky fried egg and possibly the best rosti I’ve ever tasted, squeezed into a ball yet somehow perfectly cooked and almost crumbly. That plate is cleared.

There is not so much clearing taking place, unfortunately, with the fabuloussounding french toast ice-cream sandwich – lemon sherbet ice-cream, sesame brittle and lime curd. Press those cute culinary cues. By the time it arrives the heat from the toast, or the kitchen, has turned the ice-cream into a semi-freddo at best, a soggy, custardy smear at worst. A good idea – only if they can pull it off.

This midweek, mid-grey afternoon then, in here? There are groups sitting eating pide, a couple at the window bench gazing out over coffee, people at the counter. Just about every table is full. No wonder they can afford to close at 4pm every day.

Most memorably, the staff are confident but relaxed. Contrast that with lunch at Marcus Wareing’s two-star joint at The Berkeley in London last weekend, where

every single dish was introduced as if the waiter was auditioning for Annie.

Not that my opinion amounts to a hill of pinto beans, but I am going to give it to you anyway.

The more Glasgow south side cafes like this, the better. Shakes the whole city restaurant scene up.

After all, the food at the top of the culinary heap only gets better when it is forced to do so by those pushing up from the very bottom.

PHOTOGRAPH: COLIN MEARNS There’s little to fault at Gnom, which is laidback and comfortable while governed by an air of professionalism