La Vallee Blanche, Glasgow - Restaurants in Glasgow | s1play.com

Into the Vallée

Review published on 16/04/2008 © Sunday Herald

A British restaurant is always at a bit of a disadvantage when its interior isn't visible from the street, more vulnerable still when you have to walk upstairs to get to it.

Maybe that's because prospective diners can't give the place the onceover before committing themselves to eating there. Or perhaps we worry that someone is lurking in the stairwell, waiting to mug us or intercept us with some terrifyingly high bill.

Seriously though, it has more to do with the fact that the presence of other human beings seems to offer some sort of assurance that the place is popular. Arrive early in an empty restaurant, and expect to be given the most visible table. The presence of other diners lures in hesitant passersby

It's all very different from Italy, say, where one might reasonably conclude that some of the very best and busiest restaurants are well-kept secrets for the cognoscenti, hidden away behind the least promising-looking entrances.

I'm sure the word is already out that it is very worthwhile taking the plunge and heading up the stairs to eat in La Vallée Blanche. This new husband-and-wife venture - brought to us by Neil Clark, formerly at Etain during its Conran period - looks like it is shaping up to be one of Glasgow's better restaurants.

The space itself has been very cleverly done up. If anyone had told me that I'd like a room lined with tarry-brown weatherboarding and lit by lamps that look like stag's antlers, I would never have believed them. And yet it works brilliantly. At night it feels warm and intimate, sort of Dolomite-chic.

During the day, the light streams in from a wall of windows. A further stair, which leads nowhere other than to the ladies' room, creates the impression that you are dining in a much bigger, grander establishment.

Expect no chalet-style Swiss fondues here though. The kitchen is most definitely in love with classic French brasserie cooking. Indeed, the typeface on the menu apes establishments of this type.

La Vallée Blanche is also typically Gallic in that the menu is protein-intensive. Duck liver comes with sweetbreads, halibut is teamed up with chicken wings and so on.

Of our starters, the terrine of Normandy chicken, interleaved with Gressingham duck and served with a first-rate caper and egg relish, was overshadowed by a triumphant dish of potted French rabbit. The tender strands of meat had the fondant quality you expect from rillettes. The meat had been assertively seasoned with lots of fresh tarragon and parsley, and went perfectly with still-crunchy cooked vegetables in an à la Grecque-type marinade.

Of the two main courses, one shone. Wild duck breast, with all its deep woodland flavours, worked exceptionally well with the lactic tang of choucroute and a rich sauce, fragrant with juniper berries.

By comparison, the assiette of pork was duller. There was belly (not crisply enough rendered), pork cheek (a tad dry) and fillet (underpowered on the flavour front). The menu said that the pork was free-range but, to my palate, the problem was less with the cooking than the meat itself. You have to look hard these days to find pork with any savour, and the old breeds are still the best.

The front-of-house reception at La Vallée Blanche is welcoming, and the place is prodigiously well staffed.

Almost too much so; we found ourselves regularly encirled by peripatetic table staff who seemed underemployed. Food is carried in on trays by one server, laid on a portable table, then served by another. All of which helps along the general mood of indulgence, but isn't strictly necessary.

Still, it gave us plenty of opportunity to eye up the desserts, a towering apple soufflé most notably. In the event, it stood up to attention most obligingly. I'm not convinced, though, that apple, even the tart Bramley, makes for the best soufflé. A fruit with a tang, like passionfruit or raspberry, will pip it every time. My only objection to an impeccable rhubarb crumble tart, served with stem ginger rhubarb fool and a winey granita, was that the ratio of fruit to cream and pastry favoured the latter two.

I'm being picky though. La Vallée Blanche is off to a promising start.

© Sunday Herald