Gaga Kitchen

Glasgow

HOW are you, the waiter man in the mask says at the door with such startling intensity and sincerity that for a moment I’m, like, crikey, how am I?

But before I get to properly consider this I’m swept by him into Gaga Kitchen on a wave of bubbling, babbling new place enthusiasm. Opening-in-a-pandemic, he says, yadada, taking-a-risk. Oh yeah, baby.

Then as I sprawl at one of those big booth tables near the door – trying to work out if the pendulum light is just too low or too bright – swivelling my head past the distressed white tiles, the exposed splodges of concrete, the brick, the wood, to peer through that internal square window into what looks like the posher bit of the place, the waiter man’s back again. With that look.

How are you? My, Gawd, I’m thinking, checking my temperature, running my hand over my collar to see if I’ve tied my tie outside it again. Is he trying to tell me something?

But now we’re off on another journey. Two places knocked into one, dropping his kids at the in-laws one day, spotting this place, Julie from Glasgow’s south side Kopitiam being in the kitchen, ooh yes the Taiwanese Fried chicken’s very popular, that pork belly in curry sauce with pickles our best seller.

Boom. Boom. Boom. I roulette order.

I have time only to write a note to myself: wow busy on a Tuesday night considering we’re at the stringy end of Dumbarton Road where the map says: here be the wreckage of many a-restaurant.

The food is coming so fast I’m still self analysing while forking up chunks of salad. Spinning fine noodles on my fork, shallots, peanuts, perky coriander leaves forming a crust that tumbles winsomely as I dig in. Salty, sour, sweet flavours piling in together. Then soothing watermelon chunks. Ooh, I like this.

In between I’m picking up hunks of bubbly, battered Taiwanese fried chicken. Dragging it through Kewpie Mayo. Thigh meat moist, crisply coated, a real crowd-pleaser.

Man, there’s something about these crinkle cut chips dusted with chaat spicing, draped in a fiery sauce that makes them hard to put down.

But I drag myself towards a gently steaming platter that contains what was described on the menu as Taiwanese Beef Stew, Mooli, Crispy Garlic.

The meat is soft, so tender it’s almost shredded, but it’s juicy too, spiced, little nuggets of that firm mooli breaking it up, a warming winter surprise sensation. One that I should have ordered some of that steamed jasmine rice to go with. D’uh.

I try now and Shazam the soothing tunes coming through the speaker, layering another level of comfort upon us, pitched just below the murmur of conversation burbling from the Westenders filling now pretty much every seat.

“This is tough, last try,” is the answer to song search after song search suggesting they’ve either got the volume just right or Gaga Kitchen is so far ahead of the curve that even Apple haven’t caught up.

It doesn’t really matter what the music is, I think, because they’ve got the feel of this place just right: dangling between hipster cool and new age warm.

Even the menu is pushing some wacky new envelope: it looks like small plates, but they’re not and the prices, side dishes aside, start at seven bangers and easily hit £13.

It’s not all smooth though: that pork belly in a sea of bland, only faintly coconutty, not in-any-discernible-way-curried soup leaves me cold.

The belly is clearly seared and coloured attractively, but it’s still stringy, not tender enough and the slightly fatty combination ain’t balanced by the odd pickle here and there.

By now a couple have slid into the booth downstream from me, a whole family fill the one furthest away. Ga-Ga Kitchen is completely full.

I watch the waiter go over to the folk by the door, pause, smile and ask: how are you? Phew.

Gaga Kitchen

566 Dumbarton Road

Partick, Glasgow

0141 334 9407

Menu: Thai inspired, smoothly presented, three types of fried chicken, Prawn toasts, Nasi Goreng, Mamak fried wings, beef stews and sweetcorn fritters. 4/5

Service: None of your bish-bash formulaic greetings in here. They take their time, they look you in the eye and they clearly care about getting it right. 5/5

Price: New age pricing on a menu that looks like small plates but isn’t. Dishes that pretty much start at £7 and start climbing. 4/5

Atmosphere: Kinda Friends meets the 21st Century feel to the exposed brickwork. Warm and comfortable feel. 4/5

Food: No majorly new ground but it’s Thai food with enough attention to detail to let you know they care. That beef stew was a stand-out, the watermelon salad adept. 7/10

24/30