TEC Towers burst into such a bright light, it alarmed Toots.

“Here, you! What’s going on? You’ve a beam as wide as the Clyde!”

“My dearest one, I told you it would all work out. I won the case!”

“Oh, Tec! That’s magic. I hope you’re hungry, because I am.”

This case had been weighing me down for a very long time. Sleepless nights and contorted demands along the way. But now …

“I have a grand appetite for you my dear; and a very special place, Annfield Place to be precise; and Bilson Eleven to be even more precise,” I teased to the smouldering Toots.

“Oh that’s some name,” she replied.

“It’s music to me, my dear. I hum it to the old tune of 77 Sunset Strip. But I guess you’re way too young to remember that.”

“I’ll Google it on the way. Oh, Tec! You’re so happy!”

Bilson Eleven is a curious concoction parallel to Duke Street in the east end of Glasgow. Curious in a good way.

It’s a converted old town house with a sense of élan and mystique wrapped up in charm, sophistication and although perhaps only in my imagination, suggests a hint of being naughty.

“I see what you did, there, Tec. You were writing about me,” said the tall Moll with her drawl. “Believe me, I can be as naughty as you’d like.”

“Amuse bouche?” offered our hostess at Bilson Eleven. “Why, certainly,” I replied as we sat back in the upstairs living room, enjoying the readily offered bread sticks with a stunning garlic emulsion - or dip to you and me.

But this is no ordinary dip. It is a B11 dip.

So to the main deal, the menu.

My sweet ordered the curried skink. If you have had cullen skink, this is it on stilts.

It is made of pepper and mustard haddock, potato and leek terrine, spiced potato, leek and lime pickle. And it certainly seemed like the neighbourhood to have such bad habits in.

“Oh, Tec, doll, this just works! It’s no a bad habit at all!” soothed the squeeze.

I went straight to the truffled egg yolk. Perhaps I spent a misguided youth, but I am never short of being amazed by going to work on an egg.

You can have a hangover from alcohol. I looked at my beautiful, sultry princess just loving her starter. I can have a hangover from her. It numbs and invades and I simply enjoy with a slightly twisted smile.

Back to the egg. I break into said yolk. It is the fluffiest, lightest and brightest of sunshines on a plate. This is original Good Morning Britain with no sign of Roland Rat or bingo numbers, just heavenly goodness enveloped by beetroot in so many ways.

We clinked our glasses of the Seriti Chenin Blanc from the Western Cape of South Africa.

It has a taste of succulent, rounded, baked apple with a twist of citrus.

“It’s very nice,” said the Moll, leaving an impressive imprint of her scarlet lips around what seemed to be the whole glass.

For her main, the waiter was hugely impressive, delivering a plinth of beef done rather precisely to her liking.

“Nae blood! I don’t care about your baking bath, just make it perfect, if not cremated,” said the adorable one, who can be very trying on the kitchen over her Daldowie-inspired steaks.

She likes it very, very cooked.

Said waiter did not disappoint: “I think you will enjoy my beef,” he said, as he delivered an onion crusted beef fillet, potato fondant, potato and olive oil with onion puree.

As he described the dish, he proceeded to then pour an onion gravy around it.

“Delish, Tec! Just magic.”

I think she was also happy with the food.

I had chosen fish. But this was no ordinary fish. This was B11 cod.

It arrived in a wash with cockles and winkles, seaweed butter, samphire, confit and a dollop of luxurious lemon mayo.

This was worth a stare. This was trouble. In the most excellent way.

“You know, doll. A friend of mine came here wearing a hoodie. You’d think it was too posh for that, but the staff treated him as if he were in a tux. They are just so welcoming.”

“I can’t get over this place, Tec. It’s a bit like going to my Gran’s because she made everyone welcome,” responded Toots as she tapped her B&M extension nails on the table.

“I just love it!”

The background music is mixed and very much background. Oh! There go the Beatles and perhaps that was also Herman’s Hermits.

“You know, my dear, I think I just heard Mary Hopkins and thought of us as bright young things.”

“Oh! Those were the days, Tec. Those were the days!”

Bilson Eleven

10 Annfield Place

Dennistoun

Glasgow G31 2XQ

0141 554 6259

Food:

Curried skink £9

Truffled egg yolk £7

Beef, onion and potatoes £24

Cod with cockles and winkles £17

Drinks:

Seriti Chenin Blanc £18

Total:

£75

Scores:

Atmosphere – 4 stars

Food – 4 stars

Service – 4 stars