No way to butter up

By Tam Cowan

Details Bar Strata  Website  45 Queen Street  Glasgow  G1 3EH        0141 221 1888 Okay, hands up all you Philistines who eat Lurpak spreadable or God forbid Stork margarine? What are you people like, eh?Don't you think it's time you dragged yourselves screaming and kicking into the 21st century and started sampling the culinary delights of modern life? This waiter approached our table last week and, with perhaps just a hint of a smug grin decorating his coupon, he said: 'There you go, guys, today's selection of flavoured butters.' No, we weren't hearing things he definitely was talking about flavoured butters. 'This one's plain, this one's parsley and this one's sun-dried tomato ... enjoy.' Cheers, mate. Dead impressed. Honest. Just one wee thing, though ... any chance of some bread? The only crusts on the entire table were for Steve's soup so what exactly were the other four of us meant to do with the fancy butter? Split into pairs, perhaps, and recreate the most famous scene from Last Tango in Paris? Style over substance, that's the problem, unfortunately, with too many city eateries these days. Why can't they just try to get the basics right in this case, making sure we had something other than beer mats upon which to spread the butter then start showboating? Rips my knitting, so it does. Anyway, you'll never guess what. For all the showing off (sun-dried tomato butter indeed) Steve insists the plain stuff was easily the tastiest. His potato and sage soup was also pretty good undoubtedly home-made but for some bizarre reason, Steve took more of a shine to the cutlery. 'Good spoonage,' he said mid-slurp. 'The ideal weight for a spoon and it holds exactly the right amount of soup.' Sorry, mate? Either he'd cracked his skull on the pavement outside or, being a Partick Thistle fan, perhaps he just couldn't handle getting so close to some silverware. Incidentally, I should point out we were at Bar Strata in the centre of Glasgow a place where the tiger prawns are more like tiger cub prawns. Well, that was Catriona's verdict the minute her starter arrived under her bugle. 'The prawns are tiny,' she said, 'But I do like the zesty, limey freshness.' 'So, would you like another glass of this wine?' I asked. 'Or would you prefer a half-pint of Fairy Liquid?' Moving round the table, Guswas impressed with the Bar Strata bruschetta. 'Nice and light,' he pointed out. 'Not like you'd get in an Indian restaurant.' Bearing in mind he's a Falkirk boy, none of us had the heart to tell him you don't actually get bruschetta in Indian restaurants. Ah bless, at least he was trying to join in. Meanwhile, Rab enjoyed the chicken wings, although he still found room for a couple of grumbles. The sauce was much better than the actual meat and the coating is apparently nicer on the ones you can buy from Tesco.

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