Country pub’s a rare treat

• 61 East Kilbride Road
• Busby
• G76 8HX
• Tel: 0141 6442711

I’m a big city guy myself, always feel kind of on my guard away from the big smoke. But now and then Toots likes to kid herself she’s just a country girl at heart... in spite of all evidence to the contrary, if I may say so. But spring was in the air and I was feeling soft-hearted so me and the Moll headed to the dinky village of Busby.

Our target was the White Cart, a pub/restaurant that was once a favourite of Blondie’s until an incident with some unasked-for blue-cheese dressing on a side of vegetables put an end to that particular love affair. We decided it was time to forgive and forget and turned up with high hopes.

The place looked much the same, lots of welcoming dark wood, comfy chairs and real fires – very cosy. Things got off to a slow start, our table wasn’t ready and it seemed ages until our drinks orders were taken. But our waitress arrived and from then we were in safe hands.

She worked really hard and in no time the Moll was making a dent in a bottle of Merlot, while I amused myself with a Ginger Nut, a cocktail made with ginger beer and amaretto topped up with lots of ice and soda.

I should add the White Cart is right across from Busby’s train station, for those of us who want to leave the Buick in the drive once in a while.

I started with devilled whitebait, crispy little fish eaten whole with tartare sauce. They were coated in a seasoning with quite a kick, just enough to give the dish an edge. They disappeared in no time.

Toots picked scallops with pulled pork, an idea that shouldn’t work, but she pronounced a hit. The scallops were cooked with a delicate touch and the sweetness of the pork proved a great match.

The Moll had asked for a steak cooked rare, with the usual heavy heart and modest expectations, but it was superb, as soft as butter and deep dark pink inside. The sweet potato fries made a tasty and unusual side dish, and thankfully arrived minus any surprise Stilton.

My huge slab of pork belly came with mashed potatoes, red cabbage and a caramelised apple and was fit for a king, though slightly crispier crackling would have been a treat, for me and probably my dentist.

Maybe it was the firelight, but the dessert menu was starting to look very seductive, in spite of our generous mains.

My creme brulee was a sight for sore eyes, not the usual terracotta dish, but a china cup piled high with fresh strawberries, concealing the vanilla custard and sugary crisp coating beneath.

The Moll, not a woman to be deterred by even the thought of hyperglycemia, went for the Salted Caramel Banoffee cheesecake. Pretty full-on, but it was nicely judged, all the flavours bright and fresh.

We’re not talking cheap and cheerful here, but the bill reflected a really good dinner, excellent staff and a nice spot to enjoy it all.

It was nice to be back in the country, after all.