La Parmigiana, Glasgow - Restaurants in Glasgow | s1play.com

A vintage treat

Review published on 20/03/2007 © Sunday Herald

La Parmigiana is a venerable restaurant. It opened its doors in 1978, and with its 30th anniversary looming, it clearly qualifies for a long-service medal.

That is quite an achievement. These days, restaurants, not unlike marriages, come and go at a frightening speed. Over-ambitious business aspirations, terrifying rents and rates, and the promiscuity of modern diners all make for a volatile cocktail of instability and a motley procession of doomed ventures.

This restaurant, on the other hand, now qualifies for that dual-edged compliment of being a Glasgow dining institution. Don't take this as code for implying that it has one foot in the grave. While there is certainly something very old school about La Parmigiana, there is absolutely no sign that it is creaking at the seams or resting on its laurels.

Walking in here the other day was like stepping into a discreet, dining club in Milan, favoured by well-informed local dignitaries. It has the hum of easy conversation, the chinking of glass, the clatter of fork on plate and the appetising kitchen aromas that flag up a well-patronised, busy, eating place.

The average age of waiters seems to be around 50 and they have all the ease and expertise that experience brings. It is the sort of place where if you eat there once, you will be recognised and welcomed on future visits. The service feels personal, the place seems cared for and intimate, while the atmosphere is traditional but not stuffy.

The menu is refreshing in that it is fairly authentically Italian, both in concept and in presentation. Venison, which is usually given the cabbage and spuds treatment in Scottish establishments, is served with Italian salsiccia on a crusty polenta crouton. Boring chicken breast is stuffed with spinach, mortadella and parmesan, its richness cut by a white wine and thyme gravy.

My enthusiasm for pasta has declined of late. In this country, unlike its native soil, pasta courses tend to be clumsy, misunderstood and super-sized. Basta pasta, is my usual reaction, but thank heavens I acted out of character and went for the cuttlefish tagliolini, a manageable starter of thin, bouncy black noodles lubricated by fishy oil flavoured with finely chopped razor clams and chilli.

This was the best sort of Italian cooking: simple, few ingredients, no fuss, intrinsically satisfying. Across the table, the pasta formed into lobster ravioli and served with a creamy, blushing pink sauce, was silky and fine. Its lobster flavour was mute, but the basil suffused the sauce and saved the day.

I was eyeing up the popular main course on the well-priced lunch menu - a good-looking and well-priced sole Livornese (with fresh tomatoes, capers and olives) - when our main courses turned up. The kitchen seems to operate a certain licence when it comes to substituting ingredients.

My Gressingham duck breast, which was meant to come with cherries and red cabbage came instead with sweet red grapes, an unannounced but acceptable seasonal change. The meat itself was as interesting as duck breast ever is - give me the leg and thigh any day - but its red wine and vinegar sour-sweet sauce was perfectly balanced and a great accompaniment to the bird.

The other main course of succulent, crisp-skinned guinea fowl on the bone also came with an expertly judged sauce flavoured with grappa, rosemary and bosky porcini mushrooms.

Zabaglione – the Italian dessert where eggs are whipped over heat with sweet wine – is another of Italy's great culinary gifts to the world. It is a fine example of how straightforward recipes, well done, can shine. But timing and heat is critical. It must be got to the table when it is still warm and voluminous or it will quickly cool and separate.

My zabaglione was a couple of minutes past its peak, a situation exacerbated by serving it with a cold poached pear. The pear itself was watery and pretty tasteless, so the dessert was a flop. However, a quivering coconut milk pannacotta served with roasted pineapple showed that the kitchen can do much better.

Oenophiles will be in their element with the splendid all-Italian wine list and everyone will enjoy soaking up the old-school, old-Europe atmosphere. La Parmigiana is a consummately professional establishment and it feels like a treat to eat here.

© Sunday Herald