Number 16, Glasgow

Well T S Eliot may have thought that April was the cruellest month, but he obviously didn't have an anniversary to celebrate. In our case, a cause for multiple celebrations. A quiet evening a deux - Purslane this year - then a jaunt along the M8 to be wined and dined by the in laws J & C. These affairs are becoming a little less riotous as the years go on, but always immensely enjoyable.

I'm no expert on the Glasgow restaurant scene, but it is the city with the second highest number of reviews on the blog. I'm ashamed to say that I'd never heard of Number 16. It's hardly tucked away, being down at the Partick end of Byres Road; It's been in existence since, wait for it, 1999; and it features in the Open Table list of the Top 100 restaurants in the UK. So my apologies to owners Joel Pomfret and Gerry Mulholland for having failed to mark your quarter century. And congratulations to J & C for a fine choice.

It's a small and cosy space, I thought. Then I had a look at the website. We're a small and cosy space, they wrote. Great minds. Though it is a little deceptive as it's on two levels, something you may not notice on entering. The set menu looked good, so no need to stray into pricier zones.

This being spring, there was a lot of green. Pea soup, enlivened with wild garlic pesto and a little crunch of pine nuts. Croquettes can be bland things. In Spanish tapas places I defy anyone to find the advertised ham flavour. Here they served a chicken and leek version, easily identifiable in a blind tasting.

I'm glad to see more places putting chicken on the menu. It went completely out of fashion, perhaps because of the rubber chicken disasters encountered at so many mass catering events. A pan roasted breast was described as coming with pak choi, coconut rice cake and Thai green curry. Another green dish, obviously. Well cooked chicken and veg. I quite enjoyed the crispy block of accompaniment, though I'm not sure I'd have known what it was without the menu. The sauce would have been better described as Thai style. But it was green and I enjoyed it. Who could resist a side of Deep Fried Heritage Potatoes. Garlic Butter? Not I. These were very good indeed.

Coley came with ratte potato, a purée which seemed to have been made of the soup, samphire and salsa verde. Bizarrely, the fish eaters didn't seem to want any of the side dish of tatties, so I had most of them to myself. Not as green as the rest of the food, but they did come with parsley. All of us cleared our plates, and declared ourselves satisfied.

Not even the pleasant ministrations of Emily and Eilidh could tempt us with dessert. That's a pity as they sounded rather more interesting than the run of the mill. Apricot and polenta cake with candied pistachios, for example, or blood orange ice cream to go with a dark chocolate mousse.

Difficult to sum this place up. It's usually easy to tell when you've travelled the forty miles west from the capital. There's generally a bit more pizzazz, or even a hint of raunchiness. Maybe it's because Number 16 has reached a certain age that she's grown out of that. 26 is a remarkable age in restaurant years. Who would bet against the next quarter of a century?

I didn't photograph our food. The images are from their website, but ours was equally appealing.