Margo Glasgow It’ll be veering thrillingly towards 11pm on a Wednesday night in downtown Glasgow and high on this mezzanine in Miller Street people will still be eating and even - hot-damn - still ordering food: from our so-so table at the top of the stairs (boo) I can see those smoked haddock churros, chic, puffy and delicious tentacles oozing cheese; these crisp clean batons like hash browns they call Chipsticks with Red Pepper and Seaweed. And we’ll be forking up Bare Bones Chocolate Nemesis, a dessert that looks like a cake that tastes like a fondant, with, er, maybe a bit of Bovril. This is Margo, a restaurant so buzzy and brand-spanking new that poor old flatfooted Mr Google Maps thinks it’s a hairdressers on Shettleston Road.
D’uh. So new that the wait staff, straight outta training will ask us, like folks on a mission, “what dish did you like best”. And will seem genuinely startled when your fat mate here suggests there were some things I maybe didn’t like.
Margo then. Spawn of that non-stop money-maker with so-much class Ox and Finch, cousin of that superstar sprinkled with Asian-vibe-fairy-dust Ka Pao is in that touchy feely period just after the Friends and Family, plus freeloaders, weekend and firmly in the soft launch - everything, to anyone, is half price - phase. Read more It’s years since I’ve done this kind of lunch and it was really good Why you should never order goat curry on a Wednesday night From chippie to upmarket fish restaurant - wh.
