A friend from out of town suggested dinner in a venerable old Glasgow Italian restaurant.She does not know the city at all, or might have thought twice about summoning me into town on a Friday night.I countered with Bar Vini on Victoria Road.
It's the opposite of the padded menu and big pepper grinder establishments - short menu, shorter wine list, staff with exuberant facial hair.As we drove south across the Clyde and I struggled with Govanhill's forbidding roadworks and one-way streets, I could see her doubting my judgement.
Why had I brought her through the industrial hinterland to what looked like a row of closed shops? But she is used to reporting from war zones and negotiating with terrorists so is made of stern stuff.
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