Restaurant review: Catch 22

With its helpful, handsome staff and continental approach, Glasgow's new seafood restaurant puts the accent on Gallic charm

GO ON, put your mind to it. How many good seafood restaurants can you name in Scotland? I bet that even the most dedicated gastronomes will struggle to make it into double figures. No city in the country can boast a full handful of good fish restaurants. And this in a maritime nation that produces some of the best seafood in the world.

There are plenty of reasons for this sorry state of affairs, not least the fact that a good percentage of our fish is on a fast plane to Spain, where diners are willing to pay more for it. Yet as people become more health-conscious and sales of fish continue to rise, the number of dedicated restaurants is steadily rising.

One of the latest examples of this trend is Catch 22 in Glasgow, which is part of serial entrepreneur Stefan King's ever-expanding stable of 40 or so venues across Scotland ranging from the Corinthian to the Bothy. As with virtually all of the bars, restaurants and hotels in King's G1 group, Catch 22 certainly looks the part. It is, as usual, a modern take on an old classic, following King's favoured template of sprucing up a historic building.

With its long dining area, stuccoed pillars and privacy booths that conceal diners from prying eyes, Catch 22 has a relaxed, languid air. It has the definite aura of a place that's comfortable in its own skin.

It also has one of the most efficient groups of waiters that you'll come across. All appear to be disgustingly good-looking young Frenchmen with sharp clothes, slicked-back hair and a determination to ensure each diner gets a chance to articulate his or her enjoyment of the meal. Nothing is left unsaid, or uneaten, at Catch 22. Fortunately, there's no trace of the unfortunate Gallic surliness for which French waiters are rightly infamous.

There were, however, plenty of traces of the approach to food that characterised French cuisine until they became obsessed with Heston Blumenthal. (Just as the Italians are in thrall to Jamie Oliver, whose books sell better in Italy than they do here, France's most ambitious restaurants have adopted the bald 'rosbif's' ideas on molecular gastronomy wholesale.) The fish-dominated menu is characterised by simple ingredients prepared without undue fripperies and at a price that can constitute really good value. The set lunch, in particular, at £13 for two courses, or £15 for three, is excellent value for the office workers who crowd here each day (although if you choose from the à la carte menu, the same dishes can be up to £4.20 more expensive in the evening).

I started with crisp fried confit pork belly with apple and ginger purée and an endive salad that proved surplus to requirements. Despite the presence of the green stuff, this wasn't a dish for the health-conscious: layers of delicious, delicately flavoured pork belly are separated by films of gooey fat, a traditional, if much-maligned, cut that went well with a big dollop of ginger-laced apple purée.

Malcolm's reaction to his tian of baby prawns with shellfish gazpacho dressing and a cucumber and coriander mayonnaise was equally favourable, the large bowl of succulent prawns from the west coast getting an enthusiastic thumbs-up.

For our main courses we decided to bypass the shellfish and the choice of grilled fillets of sea bass, salmon or lemon sole, as I chose the linguini of curried mussels with spring onions and coriander and Malcolm opted for the baked salmon with a risotto of wild mushrooms and parmesan crisp and garlic butter. At £11.50, my big, steaming plate of linguini stuffed with lightly curried mussels was excellent value (even if the fluorescent yellow sauce did end up flecking my jacket), while Malcolm's salmon was tender and the risotto nicely al dente.

We rounded off with a bog-standard selection of ice-creams and a baked Alaska with banana jam and crème chantilly that was so sweet it made my teeth hurt. It also reminded me of my youth: of school dinners, prunes and Angel Delight. I'm yet to work out whether this is a good thing.

Catch 22 is clearly doing something right as even in midweek it does a brisk trade. This spot on Bath Street has been something of a Bermuda Triangle for restaurants, with the unlamented Chinawhite the latest to go down with all hands. On the current evidence, such a fate looks unlikely to befall Catch 22 any time soon.

Vital statistics

Catch 22 158-166 Bath Street, Glasgow (0141 331 6222, www.socialanimal.co.uk)

Out of pocket

Starters £4.75-£8.75; mains £11.50-£23.95; puddings £4.75-£6.50; lunch £12.53 (one course), £14.95 (three courses)

Rating 7/10