THE restaurant name being a little bit ooh and a little bit aah, I assume this is going to be all east-end relaxed so I arrive fully hoodied up. Then the front door swings open and there’s a man wearing immaculate tweeds, quiffed hair, a quaffed beard and a bifter moustache waxed into points. Ah.

By the time we’re shown into the cosy waiting room at the back, with its hushed music, stained glass and polished goblets, it’s fair to say I know I am tragically underdressed.

Still, as in all the best sitcoms nobody, not the waiting staff or even my better-dressed-than-me family, mentions the sad dad gear.

We are led through to an elegant dining room on the ground floor of this grand townhouse to begin one of the most surprising Glasgow meals for a very long time. Potted lamb, turnip foam and ground black pepper. A cracker spread with horseradish and salmon. And those are only the cheeky little amuse-bouches.

On to a Bilson baguette – French-bakery crisp, crunchy, warm inside – then freshly baked sourdough with honey and thyme. We’re into the second basket of those as the starters arrive and the show actually begins in earnest.

To curried skink, then: a rectangle of firm, smoked haddock with pepper and mustard, a sweetly charred leek, light potato curry and the whole thing draped in a cumin veloute.

Luca has what looks like a giant Scotch egg surrounded with beetroot meringue, beetroot gel and salt-baked beetroot. It bursts to perfectly ooze yolk and truffle.

Now, if you think we’re sitting here going “Ooh … look at this” and “Hey … try that”, you’re right.

Mains follow, announced then described, the maitre d’ joined by another bearded and waistcoated chap. Pewter bowls with purees are tipped majestically over waiting food as the dance goes on. All while I’m wearing a hoodie.

There’s a salmon fillet seared to a crust, seasoned to an inch of perfection and served with mussels that have been imbued with lightly vinegary surprise.

The cod that Cal ordered looked to be the dullest of all the mains, but the white flesh is flavoured with tarragon, the plate strewn with lovely, crispy, crunchy kale (remember that fake but delicious seaweed they used to serve in Chinese restaurants?) and there’s a strangely compelling haggis puree.

At this point many a meal having started with the flash and bang of dazzling starters has fallen flat on its face while traversing the culinary wasteland that can be the mains. But not here. Here we’re still sharing dishes, tasting mouthfuls, pointing out unusual flavours.

Take the onion crust on Debs’s beef fillet. It looks a bit like the contents of the triangle thing in a Muller Fruit Corner, but it’s full of deep flavour and interesting texture.

Potato foam, onion gravy, onion puree? That could easily emerge from the deranged mind of a starry-eyed MasterChef contestant except that with this very good fillet it all works well.

Then there are the desserts. One that would be frankly plain weird were we not sitting slap, bang in Bonnie Scotland. It’s called A Whisky, the Barley, the Drink, the Malt. Cue Talisker custard, malt barley foam, green ginger wine and smoked apple. How crackers is this? Yet it’s fun. It’s good and I don’t even like whisky.

If there’s a fault in any of this surprisingly good meal, and it’s only a tiny one, it’s in the ginger cake, beer and biscuit. The cake is sticky and gooey, the ginger beer caramel so sweet that it cries out for something sharper than clotted cream to accompany it.

But then Debs has a chocolate sorbet with fabulous chocolate mousse that could have gone the same way were it not for the refreshing clementine segments within.

A good meal, then? Definitely. A great one? Possibly. And served in something Glasgow desperately needs: an intimate, classy setting.

Bilson Eleven

10 Annfield Place, Glasgow (bilsoneleven.co.uk, 0141 554 6259)

Menu: Curried skink, truffled egg with beetroot, cod with haggis puree and crispy kale. Fine dining hits the East End with a bang. 5/5

Atmosphere: It’s posh though not stuffy, comfortable but not modern. The full Edwardian townhouse gig in a room. Good. 5/5

Service: Classic old school service meets bearded hipster tweeds. Strange but somehow you’ve got to like it. 5/5

Price: Starters £8, main courses hovering around £20, desserts £8ish. It’s not cheap and they need a fixed price menu but still a bargain. 3/5

Food: Being bombarded with mousses and purees and foams and froths is dangerously cliched except here, with such stars as curried skin it works. Great cooking. Interesting flavours. 8/10

Total: 26/30