THE MAL ON SUNDAY

Knock knock who's there?

Let's push open the door to the Malmaison Hotel in Glasgow, a former Episcopal church and find out.

There's something so David Lynch meets Alice in Wonderland  about this little ante chamber of  a bar, anyone else see it?

I was just waiting for a dwarf to shimmer by speaking backwards.

The brasserie  is set in the old crypt, I like a memento mori, we don't have enough of them. I moseyed along for their Mal on Sunday brunch. That's a play on our 'red tops' for those across the pond. I rarely brunch, my last invite to  brunch was at the Windows on the World,  I was living in New England at the time  and envious of the word Mimosa which makes our Buck's Fizz sound all the more refined. Now it is  a very bitter sweet  memory.

This is their pic, I didn't want to freak  out the other patrons.

There should be a place to change  into elasticated pantaloons  because this eating extravaganza kicks off with an all you can eat buffet of oysters, hams, eggs, croissants, waffles, pancakes, cheeses, artichokes, salmon, mackerel - are you feeling full yet?

Well, save some room, there be mains.

Leave it, it's all mine and that's a brioche bun - fancy. I have never eaten chips, I just don't get the appeal, you can have them.

Don't even think of asking for a bite, I'm on a permanent diet, so my treats mean everything to me and as a family, we have form;we would have survived the siege  of Stalingrad,  my brother once tried to take food from my sister's  plate, he still sports the scar  on his upper cheek from the tines of  her fork and tries to pass it off as an old Mensur wound. It was the olden days,  mum leathered her into submission, I was only on the receiving end of that abomination once, and was the only child to fight back, mum had to call in the decorators afterwards, let's just say that Shiva should be my middle name,  we laugh about it once a year, well at least  I do.

A very unphotogenic huevos rancheros with pancetta, peas, and my most beloved  of weird Scottish foods, black pudding, this was so so delicious.

Cracking the sweet shards of creme brûlée, isn't life all about fleeting pleasures?

How much? £19.95,  cheap as chips but thrice as tasty.