Tuesday, 29 November 2016

Stravaigin!






It’s freezing tonight and we’ve not decided where to go so the Big Guy suggested we go to Finneston and peruse until we discover a worthy hostelry.  When I picked up The Mary she looked like a truffle, sniffing poodle wrapped in faux fur.  She was barking and singing because she’d been watching James Cordon on that car pool Karaoke!  

I hadn’t said to her that Rosaria was in the back of the car and when she started singing The Mary nearly jumped out of her pelt!

We might start our very own Motor Tug Sing Alang and invite along, as our very first guest, Glasgow’s very own, fabulous, BarbaraBryceland!

After parking the car The Mary got her nose to the ground and started sniffing which led us toward The Ox and Finch whom, we presumed, she was already acquainted with, being that she was all animal like and shit.  The Mary though, unlike those truffle hunting dugs, doesn’t get enough exercise but certainly gets plenty of love and stimulation from her four grandchildren. 

Those weans are very good at learning things on their own and also work well as a wee team so, The Mary rewards them for positive behavior; just like Pavlov’s dogs but she, unlike him,  tries to make the training fun and they hardly ever get stuffed in a cage. 

On arrival at The Ox and Finch we were me at the door by the lovely Rowan with whom Rosaria I were already familiar with; well Rosaria probably more than me actually but that’s another story. 

This delightful and very beautiful Lassie informed us, in the most charming way that we were idiots and the place was so popular that we should be ashamed of ourselves for turning up not having booked a table.  We accepted this pleasant affront with the grace it deserved and thanked her for offering us a table sometime in January. 

We will go back…nae doot!
                                                                                                                   
We were really happy to get back in the car for another wee sing-alang, so The Mary bestowed us with the most, awful rendition of Roll a Silver Dollar and we were consequently dumbstruck to the point where Rosaria suggested that I chant a wee number…

Not even kidding, that’s how bad she actually was that my daughter wanted me to sing! 

Arriving on Gibson Street, or is it in the street, (I’m never quite sure of the in, on, at thing) we were faced with the fact you have to pay for parking until 10pm.  FFS, I’m never, even out till that time and The Mary’s eyes usually start glazing over about 9.15pm.  

Get a grip Glasgow City Council there were three machines out of order and I was wabbit oot by the time I got to Stravagin.

Stavaig means to wander and I could relate to that tonight and with all the meandering for food and difficulty parking I needed a lie down.  

The fact that Stravaigan's motto is ‘Think Global, Eat Local’ was more than relevant because I feel as if I’ve travelled too far from my beloved East End already in my quest for new scran to be disappointed!

Stravaigan has three, separate, dining areas; we were on the top level and The Mary thought it was fabulous to be looking down on the locals.  She was funny and we revisited a conversation about the differences between East and West. She decided it was mainly due to their innate snobbery and our moderate humility towards them that made us superior.  She also stated they were luck we gave them a visit every now and then and it was commendably charitable on our part.  Unlike them, she said, we don’t stay tethered to our roots and liked to spread ourselves about a bit.

We eventually decided on two small dishes each.  The food was exactly as promised in the menu (or is it in the menu?) and made all the more tasty, particularly for me, because of the warm, cosy atmosphere and the lighting.  Things always taste better when I’m surrounded by twinkly lights…a bit like men…I can cope with them in a dim light also!



 Aren't they pretty?

The food was great and, as expected, the girls who served us were very pretty.  Nothing worse than being served food by a fat, unfortunate looking server.  It puts me right off my grub that. 

Because of all the stavaigin’ we’d done the evening went by very quickly and it seemed like no time at all untill we were paying the bill, or had they hurried us up. 

Not sure!

All in all it was a decent experience and The Mary thought it was a great idea that they’d served her soup after she had finished the Haggis Neeps and Totties.  She’’d never experienced that before and said she might do that on Christmas day.  She might even dish out the soup last instead of a sweet. 

The weans would love that!

So, with their ‘fingers firmly on the foodie pulse and their weird and wonderful wine and food’ the tables fill up quickly.  Stravaigan think customers should also be ‘willing to become gourmet guinea pigs’.  We're no really up for that to tell you the truth.  I'm not very experimental about my food and would hope that when I'm paying good money for it that it's been tried and tested on the locals!  

They deserve it more than us!

Have to say though, The Mary hit the boak with the suggestion of grey squirrel and sea urchins quaffed down with wine.  She said she “‘could’nae even barf that doon wi’ beer.” 

Got to love that The Mary.

See you the next time!
Mx

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