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Lamora

Lamora

1166-1170 Argyle Street,
Glasgow,
G38TE

0141 560 2070

Price Rating: 2

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Reviews

Bene but not molto

Review published on 17/08/2009 © Sunday Herald

The Japanese first came up with the word “umami” to identify a so-called fifth taste, alongside sweet, sour, salt and bitter, which scientists around the world now identify as glutamic acid, the naturally occurring form of monosodium glutamate. Foods with lots of umami are the ultimate in deliciousness, characterised by their richly savoury, satisfying taste that fills the mouth, synergising other flavours.

The food industry was quick to catch on to umami, devising the man-made synthetic flavour-enhancing additive known as MSG, which has long been mired in controversy. It can cause allergic reactions in some people and in the recent past was widely used by the food industry to add phoney flavour to low-grade, tasteless processed foods.

Apparently, the highest concentration of natural umami is found in Japanese seaweed broth made with the giant kelp that is so popular in Japanese cuisine. The second-highest concentration is in parmesan, closely followed by sun-dried tomatoes and tomato paste. Knowing this, you understand why Italian food is so addictive.

When you walk into Lamora, on the restaurant hotspot that is Glasgow’s Argyle Street, you are greeted by that tastebud-tantalising aroma so characteristic of good Italian restaurants and food shops – the smell of freshly grated parmesan. It’s as if you can smell as well as taste umami.

Lamora isn’t exceptional in any way: it’s the kind of restaurant that you might not make a detour to visit, but would be very glad to have on your doorstep. It’s a place where efforts have been made to use high-quality ingredients; the said parmesan is a class act, not some cheapskate lookalike. The kitchen goes to more effort than it might get away with. Lamora makes fresh pasta, bakes its own bread (with a great dark chewy crust) and churns it own sorbets.

There’s nothing thrilling about the line-up of starters, yet I was surprisingly happy with the fritto misto. The thing that distinguished it was the quality of the fish – scallops, squid and, I think, sole and prawns – particularly the latter, which were plump, north Atlantic specimens. A serviceable bruschetta with slices of beefsteak tomato, reasonable mozzarella and basil came with an otherwise interesting salad, marred by an excess of raw red onion and balsamic vinegar. This vinegar is commonly overdone. It needs to be used with restraint – even the pukka wood-aged stuff – because it’s very sweet. The mayo that came with the fritto misto was also disagreeably sweet.

You realise that there’s a steady hand on the pasta machine when you taste the lobster ravioli, which wouldn’t have been out of place in a top-class restaurant. The pasta was satiny, yellow with egg yolks and impeccably al dente. The little pouches of pink lobster meat captured the flavour of the crustacean. A well-balanced winey, creamy, tomato sauce with fresh cherry tomatoes lubricated them beautifully.

If this was an aristocrat of a dish, the Tuscan sausage lasagne was a peasant, and none the worse for that. Again, well-judged pasta, this time stuffed with dry, slightly fennel-tasting meaty ground pork ragu, anointed with a light bechamel sauce with caramelised extremities. Pandering to UK palates, the lasagne was served with garlic bread, an affront to the “one starch is enough” principle. This comes from our tendency to super-size pasta dishes, which would be served in smaller portions in Italy as “primi”, not as a main course.

Enquiring if the sorbets were home-made and being assured that yes, they were, I’ll admit I was suspicious, especially when the line-up included mango and passionfruit – staples of the bought-in restaurant supply scene. But when I tasted my watermelon and apple sorbets, my doubts disappeared. They were clean-tasting and natural, not at all cloying, and tasted, as they should do, pretty much like fresh fruits, only frozen.

As you’d expect, the wine list is partisan, mainly Italian. There are well-chosen bottles, many from upcoming wine producing regions of Italy, like our Verdicchio Classico dei Castelli di Jesi from Le Marche, which was good value at £17.95.

Lamora is quite good. With a bit more nerve and boldness it could be even better.