Margo, Glasgow

I don't want you to think of me as a man who plays the field, but I'd better hope the the current Mrs J isn't reading this. The second Margo(t) inside a month. Enough to excite the suspicions of any reasonable lady. But I digress.

Today my thoughts are on galaxies and the world of licensing lawyers and their similarities. The older planets have seen much of the universe. Settled and confident, they can look on approvingly as new stars enter the firmament. As a some time older satellite myself, I recall the genesis of new worlds called Junner and McGowan, and was proud to have been involved in the rise of planets called Flynn and Simpson.

And what, you may ask, happens to the ancients who have disappeared from view? Explosion and extinction, perchance? Nay. Time served and battle scarred, we find ourselves in licensing nirvana, otherwise known as the Retirement Universe. And if I'm fortunate, my orbit coincides with theirs on occasion resulting in a pleasurable Tom Eats! eclipse.

Thus I found myself in the company of one of the universe's brightest ever stars, newly retired AF. As she's Glasgow based, I left the choice of venue to her, though I was very tempted to say, I really want to try Margo. Older planets also have psychic powers. That was her choice.

Margo is the latest restaurant from Scoop Restaurants, the very talented people who started up at the (newly refurbished and reopened) Ox and Finch and who now have Ka Pao, Baba, this place and Sebbs downstairs. Miller Street is fast becoming the place to eat in the city centre, already boasting Paesano Pizza and The Spanish Butcher. I suspect, however that Jonathan McDonald and Paul Kane got here first. They've actually owned this building for a good number of years, but the time just wasn't right to develop it. The catalyst seems to have been the need to close the Ox and Finch for refurbishment. Setting up here in 2024 meant that there was no need to lay staff off.

It's a remarkable space, long and relatively narrow. In 1990s New York it would have been referred to as industrial chic. The open kitchen runs along much of the length. In a recent interview McDonald said that all of the design is done with the chefs in mind. To that he attributes the low staff turnover.

Ox and Finch was one of the early pioneers of the small plates restaurants. Here you have to concentrate a little more, but the mix and match is no longer foreign to us. You know by now my deep seated hatred of the question, can I explain the concept? Doesn't it sound so much better when someone offers to run through the menu with you? AF had been a few times, and I can read, so no need, thank you. In essence, be guided by price. Half a duck with liver parfait, marmalade and toast, and 600g sirloin on the bone (£42.50 and £50 respectively)  are not going going to be small plates.

They could, however, make meal planning tricky. As neither of us was terribly hungry, four small plates sufficed. You may have noticed that if you have a large appetite the bill in such places can rack up quite quickly. Given the originality and the quality of the food on offer, I don't think I'd have minded. For me the least successful of the quartet was a dish of courgettes, soybean, white soy and pine nuts. The interesting accompaniments just weren't enough to lift the fundamental dullness of the main ingredient.

Cured trout is usually a fine thing. Unbeknown to me there seems to have been some legislation passed at Holyrood decreeing that it must be served with produce from Katy Rodgers at Knockraich Farm at Fintry. In this case it was her crowdie, plus horseradish for bite and watercress for peppery green. Green asparagus and crab? Try getting me past that one. The advertised green goddess was a new one on me. It's a sauce (green, funnily enough). The base can be mayo or yoghurt or sour cream. Recipes I have discovered include lots of herbs, sometimes anchovies, sometimes capers. I could have done with more sign of the crab, but this was a very fine, vibrant spring dish.

The thing about red prawns, typically Mediterranean, is their rather strong flavour, not to everyone's taste. That's why it was such a genius decision to use them to stuff agnolotti. My own attempts to make pasta filled with prawns have usually resulted in something rather bland. Ah well, I ken noo. There was just a drizzle of sauce and a topping of lightly braised fennel. Dish of the day.

Regular readers might expect the article (and the meal) to end there. Nay. Brown butter almond tart and crème fraiche (plus two spoons) was the dessert that just kept giving. The brown butter goes into the pastry, its richness complemented by the almond and pear, the crème fraiche a perfect counterpoint to the sweetness. Prawns? Your title is amended to Savoury Dish of the Day. The tart gets the gold medal.

It's an extensive menu and one which clearly changes regularly. I gather that New York restaurant critics often visit four or five times before reviewing a place. Generally beyond my expenses allowance, but I'd be happy to adopt that practice for the likes of Margo.

Tom Eats! will be back in a couple of weeks.