Bothwell House

Glasgow

YOU should have ordered the beef short rib, it’s very good, says the waitress in what is a first for me: a recommendation after I have finished my meal.

This comes about only after she has asked me, as waiting staff always do, what I thought of the meal.

And I had answered as I only rarely do: honestly.

That Lamb Kofta Kebab, hmmmm. Which allied to my facial expression, sort of screwed up since you ask, she rightly took to mean: not great.

Which I follow up by asking, for the waitress is a very pleasant Greek lady, but what do you think of it?

She’s way too smart to answer that one though.

Now, there is time for this idle chit-chat because the Bothwell House, newly opened in Glasgow city centre, is deader tonight than a very dead dodo. It’s so quiet that when I walked in earlier, curiously rounding the bar area and coming suddenly across a young waiter we both mini-jump in a kind of woohay surprised way.

Me, because Bothwell House on the city’s Bothwell Street spans the entrance to an office block and even after I pushed my way in I wasn’t actually sure it was even open.

The waiter presumably because, well, there wasn’t anybody else around but us chickens.

Fast forward ten minutes or so and, seated in this 150-seater restaurant, I am the only customer.

“We’re new,” and “word hasn’t got out yet”, a waitress will explain. To be upfront, there is a big football match on tonight.

More surprises follow when I ask for the a la carte menu, the a la carte dining room not being used tonight for obvious reasons, and get what looks like a pub food menu.

Are you sure this is the right menu, I ask three whole and completely separate times. It is.

Positives? Hey, I’ve got the whole goddam place to myself. There’s actually quite a few staff on too. Just to serve moi. How relaxing.

Well, it would be if they hadn’t turned the music on and it’s jangly 70s disco gone mad. Hey How Ya Doin’ boo-ba-dooba-doo-da at 100 mph by Shuffle Lissat. All so thumpy, crashy, jingly that I can’t stop table-boogying. Ooh, check out the Dad dude at table 21. Sigh.

The food? Well the kofta that I probably shouldn’t have ordered at £18 looks okay, but consists of a kind of student-food lamb mince, pretty unseasoned, unappetisingly minced too and scarily pink; wanly toasted flatbread, so-called jewelled (aka boiled) rice with the world’s most tiresomely pointless yet fashionable addition: pomegranate seeds.

I have a grilled hispi cabbage as a side which looks good, is great value at £4 and would have been great food if after the first bite I wasn’t transported instantly to school dinners. What? You boiled it first?

Now. Fair’s fair. The kitchen of a vast yet empty restaurant on a school night is a very, very scary thing. It means skeleton staff, sleeping burners, stone-cold fryers and you just can’t get that whole shebang instantly up to proper speed.

But they do give you free water. A big chilled bottle of Purezza, one of those in house filter systems I’ve seen advertised in catering mags, but never actually had. Bonus points for that. Still or sparkling? Double boo-yah.

They have too spent a good few quid on a giant spreading cherry blossom thing which spreads from the front door, round the corner, along the corridor. Pretty. Though this place still reminds of that discount steak joint it used to be and now the bar area is a tad hotel-ish.

Oh, I also had the meze (£19 for two) which contained good, crispy filo sambousek, pea, potato, and spice inside; some frankly Findus-like oxtail croquettes, olives, dips, bread, flatbread. That would be perfectly fine if you were just out for a drink. Kinda summed up the whole place up for me.

And I’m not even mentioning that tarte tatin.

Bothwell House

21-25 Bothwell Street

Glasgow

Menu: It promises a modern dining experience, even an a la carte menu, but it’s formula food: burgers, steak pie, chicken supreme with a Middle Eastern theme. 3/5

Service: Actually, the staff were really so good that I left a cash tip on top of the automatically levied 10% service charge. 5/5

Atmosphere: It’s a big old place, spread around an office block stairwell, they have a cherry blossom thing. Pleasant enough if lacking in character. 3/5

Price: Nowadays, post-Covid, prices have generally gone crackers everywhere. They are asking £20 for not very exciting stuff but overall it’s fine. 3/5

Food: Completely empty Tuesday night. Few kitchens in the world can spring to life and deliver good stuff, nothing here really qualified as memorable. 5/5

19/30