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'There's nothing chauvinistically Scottish about the place, nothing sporran-twirlingly twee. And not a strand of spaghetti'
There's a part of Glasgow that is forever the 1970s: the city's love for the unreconstructed Italian trat is enduring and endearing. My grandparents used to run the Gem on Great Western Road, and many items from the Cima family's long-departed culinary repertoire still cheerfully grace today's menus. You expect it from the old-timers, from La Lanterna or La Parmigiana, but even spanky new Panevino features lasagne al ragù and spaghetti carbonara (though, to be fair, they've forward-thinkingly replaced the pancetta with guanciale.)
It's not hard to understand this kind of cosy reactionism. In troubled times, everyone craves familiarity's cushioned embrace, and there's nothing more comforting than a big bowl of pasta just like McMamma used to make. So it's a brave enterprise that tries something new. Sure, there has been the rash of couthy joints called Wee Lochan or Roastit Bubbly Jocks, but Central Market, the latest arrival to the cool Merchant City area, dares to look forward, not back. With its soaring windows and topography of metal, marble, tiles and mirror, it's as bracing as a good whisky sour.
There's nothing chauvinistically Scottish about the place, nothing sporran-twirlingly twee. And not a strand of spaghetti (unless you count "mac and cheese"). They don't shout about provenance, but there's no doubting the ingredients' quality. I'm torn between panic and amusement when our sparky server tells us there's no ling because of "an accident on the fishing boats".
The open kitchen is in sure hands: chefs hail from Urban and Malmaison, both highly rated locally. The brief menu covers all bases from breakfast – jugged kippers and bacon sarnies – to bedtime, and is wholeheartedly dedicated to things you'd like to eat. There are decorative assemblies: shallots roasted into luxurious, sweet petals and partnered with golden and purple beetroot, anya potatoes and soothing clouds of goat's curd with a spritz of balsamic for acidity. Warming ribstickers: ox cheeks, slow-stewed with roots collapsing into the clutches of the gravy. And playful novelties: "crispy beef brisket salad", pleasingly chewy, crumbed meat with mustard-dressed and vinegar-soused veg – like a reinvention of crispy shredded beef, but with decent produce.
Steak tartare is a belter, rich with the mineral notes of well-hung beef, properly chopped rather than minced. Although billed as a starter, it comes with a full serving of fries, like the Italian restaurants of my youth that gave me chips with lasagne and lifelong carb issues. There's also a burger, but since I've banned myself from talking about those, you'll just have to imagine the ripe, meaty bite of the beef in its pillowy bun, the fine, molten gruyère, and perfect rosy pinkness of this handsome brute.
There's a whole baked sea bream, served naked apart from a burnish of olive oil and lemon. This could be the most hair-shirted of dishes, but sweet flesh and razor-sharp timing make it a simple pleasure rather than something designed for Victoria Beckham. Far more sybaritic are blowsy butterbeans spiked with paprika and ham hock and topped with collops of blushing Iberico pork. And I love the wine flights that bring you a new glass with each course.
It's not perfect. What is? I'm bemused by a cheese selection (pre-portioned) that features the dull likes of Ossau-Iraty and none of Scotland's magnificent fromages. That ox cheek stew has the gluey consistency that comes from too much flour, though its hint of anise is a neat touch. "Mac and cheese" is overcooked and laced with the dreaded truffle oil. They're clearly chuffed to bits with their admittedly gorgeous anya potatoes – nutty, earthy, as characterful a spud as you'd hope to meet – but we meet them in the stew, in a side dish, with the brisket, until they outstay their welcome.
Still, this is food, and hospitality, with its heart in the right place. And that's exactly what Glasgow, most big-hearted of cities, deserves. Without even a whiff of garlic bread.
• Central Market 51 Bell Street, Glasgow G1 1PA, 0141-552 0902. Open all week, 10am-10pm (8pm Sun). About £25 a head plus drinks and service.
Food 7/10
Atmosphere 7/10
Value for money 8/10
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