I am aware that I am at risk of becoming a cliche, yet here I am reviewing another plate of steak frites, this time at Alston Bar and Beef. Well, I blame Hawksmoor. In fact, I blame them for two things. Firstly, for serving me my first ever eye-rolling, table-banging, fist-clenchingly good steak; and secondly, for not opening in Scotland. I am on a perpetual mission to recreate that Hawksoor experience, and have returned to the mothership several times since, just to make sure that the benchmark is still high. Believe me, it is. It's the same every time. Ribeye, stilton hollandaise, dripping chips, mac and cheese, bone marrow gravy. Eyes roll, tables are banged, fists clench. I need a lie down and a Corpse Reviver No 2.
I digress. Back to Alston Bar and Beef. I love Alston. I love subterranean bars that appear like the entrance to Diagon Alley to those of us in desperate need of a good cocktail. I love its cool blue lighting and elegant tiles, and that odd little arch by the bar, and the low slung lights that I have inadvertently headbutted so many times, and the stag and doe toilet signs and the chefs slapping great hunks of meat onto the pass as you descend the glass stairs that surely must have come from the Crystal Maze. And above all else, I love their barrel-aged cocktails with a deep and enduring love that words cannot come close to describing. Never stop putting your cocktails in barrels, Alston. Never stop.
Alston inhabits a previously unused space under the Gordon Street entrance to Central Station, and is named after the street that would have run through the area before the construction of the station in 1879. You enter past the kitchen and through the bar, flanked by tables on the left and a solid marble bar on the right. Mirrors at either end make the narrow space seem longer, but lend a lightness the belies its location. The dining area is to the right, mirroring the dimensions of the bar, with seating for 40 or so diners. Like many other new ventures in Glasgow, the decor has a classic vintage feel, with a focus on elegance and quality.
Having enjoyed many, many (many) drinks in Alston with my good women, and having been thoroughly enthused by their inclusion of chips and béarnaise on their bar snacks menu, it was surprising that it took me so long to dine here. My husband and I were fortunate to have tickets to see John Waters at the O2 Academy, so decided to book the pre-theatre option at Alston, given that it is staggering distance from the bus stop. The menu is neat and represents good value on the whole, but my one bugbear would be the supplement for steak in what is essentially a steak restaurant (Hawksmoor doesn't). My asparagus starter was pleasant and flavourful, with the quality of the ingredients talking the lead, and a crisp glass of prosecco was the perfect foil for the rich bearnaise. The steak frites was excellent, cooked to my liking, full of flavour, and dripping with deep and pungent garlic butter. I swiped the chips, skin still on, through the garlicky slick with gusto, and devoured the plateful. Hawksmoor it was not, but it was a solid, high quality plate of food that I would happily eat again.
Pudding was a barrel-aged Martinez. These, in my humble opinion, are the jewel in Alston's crown. Gin, sweet vermouth, marashino liqueur and bitters are combined, poured in a barrel, and left to their own devices for a while. What comes out the other end is a warm and complex blend of sweetness, citrus and spice, served in a delicate coupe glass and garnished with a maraschino cherry. It is deeply, intensely drinkable, as my good women and I can testify and, in fact, we have been known to drink the barrel dry. Never fear, we simply moved on to their (equally good) negronis, and all was right with the world.
In summary, I love Alston. Superb staff, solid cooking and exceptional cocktails make it an elegant haven under the city. And as for John Waters?
Hilarious, charming, filthy and well-mannered enough not to comment on the hum of garlic emanating from my pores when we were lucky enough to meet him after the show. read more