Lucky 7, Glasgow - Restaurants in Glasgow | s1play.com

Hearty fare at homespun cantina

Review published on 07/01/2010 © Sunday Herald

Finding the optimum balance between economy and gastronomy is becoming less of an art and more of a science. Snuffling around online is essential if you want to uncover the best pre-theatre deals, prix fixe menus, 5pm.co.uk offers and all-you-can-eat ribs extravaganzas.

For some foodies, the exhaustive research and planning of a good-value meal out is part of the fun. But sometimes it's nice to be spontaneous and simply follow your nose - like turning up at the flicks without knowing in advance what you want to see. You just bring the appetite.

It was on such a whim that a friend and I entered the Lucky 7 on Glasgow's Bath Street. Peering at the menu on the freezing street outside, it had taken a minute or two for the high concept to click - all the main courses are a uniform £7, with starters and desserts at £3-£4 - but once we'd got the gist, it was too tempting to dismiss.

Formerly a style bar and restaurant, the ground-floor townhouse interior has now been stage-dressed as a vaguely homespun cantina, albeit one immaculately conceived.

There are rustic signifiers scattered around the place - exposed woodwork, mess hall benches, peeling wallpaper, menus typed on plain brown paper - but they've been assembled and deployed so artfully that it feels like a pastiche of dustbowl dining, a John Steinbeck theme restaurant. Thankfully, Lucky 7's standardised pricing conceit is no mere bait-and-switch.

A blackboard of specials advertises a few pricier dishes (a tempting crispy pork belly with roasted veg, a seasonal turkey with all the trimmings) but all the £7 main courses sounded robust and tempting, from coq au vin ("with buttered boiled spuds") to golden-battered fish and chips (accompanied by tartare sauce and, winningly, a pickled onion).

I eventually opted for the stovies. my friend for the Scottish rump steak with béarnaise sauce. For starters, we both fancied a £4 bucket of Shetland mussels but eventually my companion decided on a toasted brioche smothered in chicken liver pate.

As well as a flotilla of far flung bottled beers, Lucky 7 offers AS Sagres and Moretti on tap, while a concise wine list remains within a restrained £12-£18 bracket. The prices may be subdued, but the service was buoyant.

The mussels dropped anchor in force, a generous bowl slathered in white wine, chilli and coriander cream that packed a kick.

The brioche with pate and red onion chutney was attractively presented and surprisingly substantial, and got the thumbs-up from over the table. A piping-hot pot of hearty stovies of which Ma Broon would be proud arrived with oatcakes and generous slices of beetroot arranged on a sturdy wooden chopping board.

My companion had cautiously ordered a £1 side order of chips to accompany his rump steak, unaware that it already came with mash. In a casual dining culture where it's become common to break up dishes into their component parts and levy an additional fee to reunite them, it's a refreshingly holistic approach.

This was hearty fare with more than a bit of flair, and for relatively random punt on a cold night, Lucky 7 was surprising in all the right ways.

The ambience of lacquered homeliness might not be to everyone's taste, but it offers some of the best-value dining in the city centre, and for that alone should be recommended. But what was it Steinbeck said? No-one wants advice - only corroboration.