The Pelican Cafe

New arrival in town The Pelican – over the road from Kelvingrove Museum – is the baby of Jason Harvie, a wine merchant by trade who wanted to create somewhere to eat well-sourced and well-cooked Scottish food that won’t break the bank. The Pelican is certainly incredibly reasonable, given the provenance of ingredients and the flair with which it’s served up – most mains will give you change from a tenner and all the wines from an (unsurprisingly) well-chosen list are available by the glass.

The informal paper menu chats you up with a list of their suppliers up the road, from organic bakers to elderly fish smokers. To start, Orkney Gold beef makes for a top-notch, ruby-red carpaccio while chicken livers and tiny cubes of beetroot are a meltingly earthy marraige. The Pelican’s signature fish and chips are as far removed from a tepid post-pub greasetrap as is possible to conceive. Three types of seafood –sea bass, a firm chunk of hake and a few king prawns thrown in for good measure –are encased in a light, tempura-style batter and dished up with a mountain of lusciously naughty goose fat chips and some homemade tartare. The only duff note is an overly-minted pea puree that smacks more of Aquafresh than allotment.
My veal steak – brought to my plate via the Isle of Bute – was perfectly tender and intelligently teamed with sticky courgette ribbons and cubes of densely garlicky potatoes – no ‘one side fits all’ approach to veggies here.

Throughout my meal I’d had the cold sweats of pudding anticipation, having eyed a warm chocolate fondant with pistachio ice cream. When the moment arrived, it didn’t disappoint – molten choc mixing in with green, marzipan-scented ice.
The Pelican has a reassuringly laid-back vibe, more caff than restaurant, and one of the quirkiest draught beer lists in town (Anchor Steam and Sierra Nevada both make an appearance). Pop in for a drink, end up staying for a blow-out dinner. [Ruth Marsh]