Are there many more new restaurants to come on Glasgow’s Argyle Street, the far-flung and ratty bit heading west into Finnieston? Each time you wend your way down its dusty pavement you find yet another former newsagent or video shop that’s gone culinary.

It’s a careworn stretch lined with mysterious shops offering skateboarding accoutrements and computer innards, but there’s more gastro restlessness here than in Notting Hill. My own theory is that the customer base is mainly those builders and plasterers who have suddenly grown prosperous from installing the restaurants’ mezzanine floors and Tardis-like kitchens.

Argan is the latest, or at least it was at the time of writing. It is also the first Moroccan restaurant in Glasgow (Edinburgh has the decent Fez in Nicolson Street). Historically, Moroccan is an interesting cuisine, deriving from the curious similarities between the competing Jewish and Muslim faiths, namely the exclusion of pork and all associated products from the diet, and the habit of feasting with fingers.

Then Italian colonists introduced the vine. Of course, all this is the Open University way of looking at it. For the rest of us, Moroccan food usually means one thing: fruit. Meat with plums. Prunes in the coffee. Figs figuring largely. In much the same way that Superman becomes Clark Kent simply by putting on a pair of horn-rimmed glasses, any dish can be made Moroccan by adding a few bits of dried fruit. Lobster thermidor? Lob in some apricots and, lo, it’s the authentic taste of Afrique du Nord. (Note: does not work with fruit salad.) It’s warming and flavoursome stuff even so, though this didn’t quite explain the crush in Argan the night I visited. The place went from quiet to chaos in the blinking of an eye. It’s a decent-sized room, clean and crisp, its plain white walls enlivened by the occasional daub of fervid Moroccan art and the tables sympathetically arranged to allow for inter-diner conviviality if required, but the sudden influx was leaving a queue at the door. They just kept coming, until the dining room was straining and as hot as Rabat’s midday sun.

Closer inspection, though, revealed a certain homogeneity among the incomers: long, wispy hair, milk-bottle spectacles, breathable rainwear, mouthfuls of teeth. It could only be a delegation from the world science-fiction convention that was going on down the road. The unmarried of five continents had convened in the same spot at the same time. The upside of this (and it had to be looked for strenuously) was that at least they’d have something positive to tell the citizens of Klaarg-9 about Glasgow’s restaurants, having beamed down into a cheerful, affordable neighbourhood eatery with native staff and an intriguing menu.

The harira fassia, a reddish sweet/spicy soup of lamb, chickpeas and lentils, proceeded from a decent, deep stock with a reassuring sheen of emulsified fat glimmering on the surface. The pastilla au poulet et aux amandes, chicken and almond pie, was a real taste of the uncommon: mashed chicken in a parcel of filo pastry, topped with chopped almonds and icing sugar to make a schizophrenic but weirdly convincing experience. That was from the menu, where mains came in at an average of £6.

The pricier specialities menu contained couscous royale (skewers of lamb, chicken and merguez sausage), paella and a tagine made with marlin. The lamb equivalent came in a flamboyant pot with prunes and apricots. The lamb, while plentiful, was merely acceptable stewing stuff, lacking much tenderness or delicacy, which was annoying in a £12 dish. But there is also an interesting selection of nibbly offerings, such as prawn and potato pakora and Moroccan sardines in five spices.

In case you were wondering, Argan is the name of a Moroccan tree, the seeds of which produce a delicious edible oil. The menu informs us this oil is “renowned for its anti-cancer properties”. Not only is this medically dubious, but it’s also the first time, and last I hope, that I’ve seen the word cancer on a restaurant menu. Fatal illness is hardly conducive to a good appetite. I mean, what would the neighbours say?

Rating: Argan

Food Three stars
Atmosphere Four stars
Service Four stars
Value Three stars
Overall Three stars

Argan, 1166 Argyle Street, Glasgow, 0141 560 2070, dinner for two with wine £45

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