A puzzling, underwhelming experience – this lauded Asian fusion restaurant-bar must have been having an off-day
Staring at my plate of sludge-like noodles on a Sunday lunchtime at Nonya in Finnieston, Glasgow, I permitted myself a moment of self-pity. These chilled sesame, cucumber and coriander noodles had sounded like balm to my noodle-enthusiast ears. Noodles in any form are my downfall, you see. Leftover takeaway ho fun noodles, for example, sat in my fridge overnight, will whisper to me at 3am: “Graaaace, Graaaace, don’t sleep. Come downstairs. I am your breakfast.” These noodles at Nonya, however, had me stumped. This was a tahini-flavoured mulch with a large, wasteful fistful of coriander flung on top – less of a garnish than a hedge.
Two other dishes I’d been recommended to order – the laab and the Chinese burger – were both unavailable that day, too. Self-pity is the only option as a restaurant critic, because be sure no one else will gaze at your gilded life and sympathise. There are no sad charity appeal ad breaks on daytime TV, in which David Tennant pleads for £5 a month to keep me in Gaviscon and Spanx. But if there were, he’d tell you of experiences such as Nonya, whose reputation had lured me 400 miles from my sofa, arriving optimistic and starving, only for the joy to ebb from my soul with each new dish.
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