WHITEHILLS FARM, Scholar's Gate, East Kilbride Tel:

01355 242424

I WAS lying low in the suburbs, checking out a case.

Cruising around in the Buick, the trick is to stay alert - but inconspicuous. So why on earth did I let the Moll come along for company? OK, she breaks the monotony on a stake-out, but subtle she ain't.

After a tense hour or so, she cracked.

'Oh, for Pete's sake, Tec' she blared. 'Nothing's happening around here, nothing is ever going to, and I'm starving. What say we take a look for a pit-stop?'

Heck, maybe she was right, this lead wasn't leading anywhere and a guy's got to eat.

We took a turn off the main road and hit paydirt right away.

Whitehills Farm, it said, though in the middle of a respectable housing estate, it looked more children's zoo than Arizona ranch.

But it was good easy parking, so we drove up and tried our luck.

Nice pub interior, nothing fancy, and a warm welcome right away from our friendly waitress. Saturday night and no reservation? Well, the restaurant area was busy, but she found us a table with a good view of the gardens - result.

We settled for a look at the menu, me with a pint of cider and Toots with the regulation large glass of red wine, a Malbec, which she informed me was full-bodied and complex. Well, it takes one to know one.

Seems they have a new system - a flat rate for one, two or three courses, chosen from a varied - but not huge - menu. I liked it. There's something a little disconcerting about a menu so huge you wonder how the kitchen is pulling it off (usually with a microwave, I suspect). This looked traditional and re-assuring. And you knew exactly how much it was going to cost, which judging by the prices, was going to be very bearable.

I went for the chicken liver pate with brioche and cranberry relish, while my dragon lady chose the king prawns in a chili and tomato sauce with ciabatta sticks.

Both were winners, even if they took a relaxed interval to arrive. The pate was a tad coarser than I was expecting, but very tasty, and the brioche and relish were crispy and zingy. And as a lesson for those of us - guilty, your honour - of routinely ignoring the side salad, this one was really something, crisp, imaginative and brightly-dressed.

Blondie was raving about her prawns, which came in a dinky little pot with the ciabatta sticks on the side. The sauce was hot and spicy, but subtle, and the prawns huge and meaty almost a main course - for a less greedy sidekick.

Another long-ish wait for our mains made me wonder if the staff were a man down, but they were very charming and the food was certainly worth waiting for.

I rashly ordered a steak sandwich on ciabatta - it always sounds good, but usually ends with me picking the meat out and being surrounded by discarded crusts. Not this time -the streak was deliciously tender, sliced fine and the ciabatta, with a scrape of Dijon mustard, hadn't been toasted to shrapnel. It tasted great, and I emerged with dignity largely intact.

Blondie's steak pie was a similar hit. Trust me, she can be a little picky, but she couldn't fault the lean tender meat, rich gravy and melting puff pastry, as well as piping hot chips.

Portions were pretty generous, so we decided to share a slice of chocolate fudge cake, though somewhat belatedly the Moll put a stop on the cream, custard or ice-cream option. Waistline-wise, we were deluding ourselves, as the cake was moist and decadent enough to clog the most virtuous of arteries.

Time to beat a retreat back to the big city before anyone recognised the Buick - I was still trying to keep a low-profile.

Then again, my squeal of pleasure when I got the bill for such a good dinner might very well have blown my cover...

STARTERS:

Chicken liver pate with cranberry relish

King Prawns in a chili sauce

Mains:

Steak Pie

Ciabatta steak sandwich

Dessert:

Chocolate fudge cake

(Two courses £9.99, three courses £11.99)

Drinks:

Red wine x 2 £9.60

Pint of cider £3

Coke £1.45

TOTAL £36.03