Gloriosa, Glasgow

I can be sniffy about restaurant names. Perhaps a little unfair, as the bestowing of monikers isn't the easiest task in life - ask any parent. By contrast, how can you fail to be uplifted by the word Gloriosa? It evokes stirring Christmas hymns and Food, Glorious Food! In real life the plant which bears the name is a thing of beauty too. Otherwise known as the flame lily, it can reach three metres in height, towering over others.

I see that seven years have passed since I reviewed Alchemilla, Rosie Healey's first venture after returning to her native Glasgow. That was a tiny cramped space not far from today's star, and very much influenced by the food of Yottam Ottolenghi with whom she trained. In this good sized pleasant space she is much more her own woman. I had been meaning to go for a while. In the back of my mind I had a glowing review by Jay Rayner which I could have sworn was a recent one. In fact it's two years old, written when Rayner was still at The Guardian. Still, better late.

One of our regular anniversary lunches provided the excuse, so off to Glasgow we trotted. If you don't know the city, you could be confused. Argyle Street is (or was) one of the main shopping streets in the centre. Don't be fooled. Gloriosa is some miles west in Finnieston, now the city's food capital.

Another warning at this stage. I read an interview with Rosie from 2019. Sharing plates are so last year, she said. But read Gloriosa's website. For sharing, family style. Or the very top of the menu. We recommend sharing as our food is served as and when it's ready. Hmm. Hold that thought.

Leaving aside desserts as we often do, the menu is in four untitled sections. The first is the part often labelled as Bites or Snacks. Bread, olives, almonds, sardines, that sort of thing. Jay Rayner raved about the focaccia. I didn't. Not sure it had been made that day, and any one of the many bakers in Genoa, whence it originates, would have produced a superior version. One of the in-laws refuses to share, so we had to watch him scoffing his marinated sardines. I managed a dunk in the oil - rather tasty.

The next section was plant based, featuring dishes where the star ingredients were tomato, courgette, beetroot and roasted cauliflower respectively. We tried them all. Unfussy but clever cooking, allowing the ingredients to speak for themselves. Tomatoes in September? Actually fairly unremarkable fruit, but the combo with shallot, tapenade and basil was a good thing. Beetroot came with leek, anchovy, parmesan and rocket. If you can't make something flavoursome with that... but you have to have the wit to think up the dish. I'm virtually never going to get excited about courgettes, but cauliflower with labneh, saffron and pistachio is a very fine throw back to chef's Ottolenghi days.

The next section had three pasta type dishes of which we tried the gnudi. (Before you ask, gnocchi are usually made from potato: gnudi are lighter. Think ravioli without the wrapper, often a mix of ricotta and spinach.) We also had the tagliatelle. I'm not sure putting borlotti beans in a pasta dish works for me.

The final section has protein, grilled sardines, cod and partridge. The non sharer enjoyed his cod, the white flesh looking dramatic on a bed of black rice with cockles and salsa verde. How can you resist a partridge at this time of year? I certainly can't. Fortunately most of the company was stappit by then and didn't want a bit of my bird. Lucky me.

Rather too much food and rather good food. But sharing plates (as in small) they generally weren't, hence the warning. Taking the wine out of the equation, and with a coffee each and no dessert, we paid just shy of £60 a head.

I'd have loved to meet the lady herself, but surprisingly she was off feeling poorly. I didn't think chefs were allowed to be ill. We were looked after surprisingly well by Calum, considering that it was his last day. How do I rate the whole experience? Good but not gloriosa.