Monaghan born chef Peter McKenna is championing the Celtic connection at his new bistro, Eleven Fifty Five …
Forget what you think you know about Irish food. At his new restaurant in Glasgow, chef proprietor and proud Monaghan man Peter McKenna is serving up dishes that are far from your mam’s ham, cabbage and spuds.
His stylish new bistro in Finnieston disproves every tired cliché about Scottish and Irish scran, and McKenna credits his own mam for much of his interest in cooking, serving and enjoying food. “As a boy, I did the weekly shop for her. She’d give me the list and I’d go down to the greengrocer, then the butcher who had their own herd of cattle. I always snuck through the back to watch them breaking down the animals – I found it mesmerising.”
McKenna also grew up in the family pub, cleaning ashtrays and soaking up the air of conviviality; “I grew up around people having a good time with food and drink. At ten-years-old, I was standing on Coca Cola boxes to pull a pint.”
While McKenna’s future vocation seemed inevitable, he says; “There were always choices, but hospitality is my life blood. I never wanted to do anything else.” After school and on weekends, he worked in a Mediterranean restaurant honing his culinary skills as far as was possible in a pre-Celtic Tiger Irish town. “There wasn’t the food scene that there is today in Ireland, people just didn’t have the disposable income.” However, Monaghan had, and still does, a host of independent businesses.
“I grew up in a family that ran their own businesses, so I never wanted to work for anybody else either.” He had to for a time, though, from Holland in the ’90s working in kitchens to Sydney and Saudi, where he was a private chef for a prince. “I was part of the entourage on the private jets, yachts, at the palaces and chalets. That experience set me up. It’s how I was able to afford this place.” He gestures around the restaurant, which he opened as The Gannet in 2013. At the time, it was one of Scotland’s only restaurants to offer a purely tasting menu experience. It made his name and was hugely popular until he decided to close it last year.
If drawing a line under something so successful seems strange, the decision is paying off. “It was just time to try something new. I wanted to lean into where I come from, I’m proud of my roots and I don’t see anybody in Glasgow celebrating their Irish heritage through food,” says McKenna. “There’s a synergy between Ireland and Scotland, but there’s still an element of sectarianism here too. Flying your flag can feel like a risk and that’s a real shame.” Growing up in a border town through the Troubles, Peter is all too aware of that kind of division.
“I wanted to do something positive, with good food at the centre.” Eleven Fifty Five celebrates the best of both cultures and all that unites them. Namely, great hospitality and local produce. McKenna is passionate about the natural larder in both countries. At the helm of The Gannet, he was known for putting Scottish produce front and centre “because it’s brilliant. You’d be stupid not to.” At Eleven Fifty Five, he’s spotlighting Irish produce too; “All of our steaks come from the Hannan Brothers in Armagh. Their Himalayan salt-aged beef is divine – everyone comments on the depth of flavour – and their sugar-pit beef cheeks are amazing too. Using incredible produce like that is so rewarding; it gives back to you.”
Eleven Fifty Five has seasonal offers including two courses for just £25. I took my chef brother Cameron for his birthday and the slap-up meal we dined on was worth double what we paid. This is seriously refined food at prices you can stomach. Service is unhurried too, which made for a lovely, leisurely lunch.
If you think chicken wings are the reserve of greasy American diners and Supervalu counters, think again. This starter is unbelievable. They’re deboned to avoid greasy fingers, smoked and maple-glazed, topped with shards of green beans and crisp carrot, doused in unctuous tarragon and shallot dressing.
My main, a generous portion of trout, was a glorious sunset-pink, the skin crispy and salted, lifted by the addition of fresh fennel. It came with colcannon, which was a pat of smooth mash folded with cabbage, pancetta, spring onions and a shellfish butter – just a touch more refined than your average side of tatties.
McKenna’s grandmother’s malty wheaten bread features on the menu, served hot and glossy in a Guinness glaze. Pudding was Choux au Craquelin that erred on the right side of sweet, a delectable affair of seasonal plums, sour cream and white chocolate topped with a thin, biscuity oatcake. Don’t even get me started on the malty deliciousness of the Guinness ice cream, which was ever so slightly savoury.
The white bean soup Cameron ordered came anointed with a herbaceous green oil and ‘cabinet mushrooms’ that he thought might be some obscure variety of funghi he hadn’t heard of … but no, they’re grown in a cabinet downstairs! McKenna is glad the effort isn’t not going unnoticed, saying; “A fresh mushroom tastes totally different to one that’s been sitting in a packet. I just cut them out of the cabinet when I need them.”
That level of attention to detail sums up the whole affair. The result is unequivocally excellent food that’s hamely fare, as the Scots say, but elevated to an almost unrecognisable degree. Under McKenna, Irish Stew becomes ‘braised lamb, crisp sweetbreads, poached spring vegetables’ that’s beyond. There’s no Catholic guilt here or Protestant dourness either, just the best of both cultures shining through in hearty dishes and comhluadar.
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