SOMETIMES the detective business takes you to some unlikely places ...

Which is how I came to be skulking about by the Forth and Clyde Canal as it wound its way towards the west of the city, in a Bermuda Triangle part of town I wasn’t too familiar with.

The lead was a dead end, which left me stranded, hungry and with a grumpy Moll in tow. I’d rashly hinted that a shopping trip to the West End might be on the cards – and she wasn’t looking too impressed by the brownfield sites and student flats we’d happened on instead.

I needed a pitstop, big time, but the pickings looked lean. Up ahead there was a gigantic Chinese supermarket, but I was hardly going to tempt Toots with the promise of a bag of fortune cookies to be eaten in the car. I normally love a mooch around in those places, but now wasn’t the time.

Wasn’t it Confucius who said: ‘When you’ve gotta eat, you’ve gotta eat’?

Probably not, but fortune was on my side as I noticed the place had a restaurant attached – and not just a cafe, a real sit-down, knife and fork (or chopsticks) joint.

Toots quickened her high-heeled step and I crossed my fingers we could get a table for lunch without a booking.

No worries – whatever else it turned out to be, the place was vast, cavernous even.

But there were plenty of big tables of families, obviously having a high old time.

A good sign.

A polite waiter showed us to a nice table by the window which could easily have seated eight, but Blondie insisted we sit side by side.

“I can hardly see you over there, Tec!” she hollered as I cautiously selected a seat opposite.

To keep it simple, we opted for the lunchtime specials.

Easy for me, I just love to start with the soup when I dine Oriental and it was the chicken and sweetcorn for me.

The Moll went for the salt and pepper ribs on the understanding that there would be a lot of sharing.

The dame can never decide whether she’s Tiger Lily or Shanghai Lil and true to form, ordered a delicate Jasmine tea to drink, only to spoil the effect by demanding a half pint of Carlsberg to go with her main course.

I decided to join her and ordered a pint. Of Carlsberg.

The soup was just the ticket, hot, intense and with delicate strands of egg stirred through. I got halfway in sheer bliss before Toots blew the whistle and demanded a swap.

But the ribs were damn fine, too, with tender meat and a nicely-judged oomph to the seasoning, with a much- appreciated cool side salad.

For mains, I’d gone for king prawns with black beans and green peppers – the prawns meant paying a small supplement, but it was worth it. They were huge, juicy and perfectly cooked, with the sauce and peppers providing a great contrast in textures.

Simple boiled rice, nice and sticky, rounded it off.

The Moll’s main was a meat-lover’s feast of everything the Chinese do best – roast duck, crispy belly pork and barbecued pork, all drizzled with a dark soy gravy and plenty of crispy skin, again with simple boiled rice.

Desserts looked very nice, but as we had feasted so well we decided to skip it – it was only lunchtime, after all.

But the bill was a steal for such a great meal – and left us all the more cash for a look around the supermarket.

At least we wouldn’t be shopping while hungry...