Out Of My Shell
One of Glasgow’s most famous restaurants is the Rogano Oyster Bar, just off Buchanan Street. Its Art Déco frontage had always appealed to me but, until last night, I had never once stepped foot in the place. Frankly, its reputation had intimidated me and, well, I had heard it was quite a pricey place to eat. Nor, for that matter, had I ever tasted oysters. Where I grew up, oysters were rarely on the menu. Whelks, yes. Oysters, no.
Then, late yesterday afternoon, I was in Edinburgh, having a meeting with Richard Melvin from Dabster productions, when I suddenly remembered I had to catch the train back to Glasgow to rendezvous with Gareth Hydes from Children In Need. Gareth’s actual job title is difficult to remember, but let’s just say he’s Pudsey Bear’s enforcer. (Well when you’re bright yellow with impaired vision, you need some muscle to back you up.) Anyway, I threw on my jacket and made for the door.
“Tell you what,” said Richard, “I’ll come with you.” Now, you may think Richard is just a wild, free-spirited sort of guy, but in fact he had an ulterior motive. No sooner had we boarded the train than he produced an iPod and made me listen to highlights of Real American Folk…the series he made in New York with Dean Friedman. It's sounding good.
And so, an hour later, the three of us were standing in Queen Street station and Richard – clearly influenced by his recent jaunt across the Atlantic - suggested we try the Rogano. He’d never been there before and neither had Gareth. Yes, you can see I run with a sophisticated crowd.
We walked into the Rogano. I half-expected to be turned away at the door, but we made it past the threshold without even a raised eyebrow from the man on the door. It was smaller than I had imagined, but the wooden booths and thirties styling didn’t disappoint. It was modelled after the interior of the Queen Mary, apparently, but It was like being in Manhattan during the era of James Thurber and Dorothy Parker.
We shared a bottle of chilled white wine, a big plate of oysters and in no time at we had sorted out the problems of the world and I suddenly developed psychic powers. Yup, in an amazing display which surely astounded everyone around me, I pointed to one of the waiters and said “You’re Polish aren’t you?”
I should point out that this was before he had spoken a word to us.
“Yes, I am….” He admitted, “and are you also…?”
I nodded then flashed by BBC Security card like it was an FBI badge to confirm my identity. I then gave him the English and Polish pronunciations of my name…then my Dad’s life story and, for good measure, my views on Polish players in Scottish football teams.
The prices? Cheaper than some of the new restaurants in Inverness, which was reason for celebration and another bottle of chilled wine. I’m sure Richard uttered the words “this is all on me” but he now denies this.
And those oysters?
They tasted just like big whelks.
