There are plenty of comestible choices and free 30/60 minute parking on Fenwick road for the PMiaV here. In a pleasing Italian burst of adjacent food outlets is a deli/restaurant, gelateria and Grain and Grind. The first two are old-school, as the recently-left school say. Grain and Grind is not. I’m returning as a year ago I had a memorable custard doughnut. Which illustrates how fine that doughnut was.
G&G is a weegie-powerhouse chain of coffee shops. 6 so far. Inside the Giffnock G&G is more of that brutalist laminated plywood was-on-trend-is-it still(?) coffee shop design with booths and tables. You do get a cushion on the seats though. There aren’t that many seats but the space is light, open. There is a fine, spacious toilet for those that want it. G&G have their own blends to buy (reasonable prices) and open at 07.00 with breakfast offers, which I will be taking up in the future without an excuse.
Why? Because the food is fantastic. Prices are the usual but the quality is exceptionally good. The staff, assertive and matey, point out that I can have a filled baguette, a coffee and any cake EXCEPT THE BROWNIES for £10 on the lunch deal. I try to get the brownie but no. Fair enough. That’s my struggle, being an anonymous critic.
The coffee is excellent with a pleasing cup and saucer, the baguette was crusty, thin and superb. A bit like Maggie Smith. The recommended hazelnut and pistachio croissant rivals the legendary custard doughnut of my recent past. It came fast and was dished up on tin plates – a nice Proustian touch for the camper PMiaV. I eat too much too fast. Je ne regrette rien.
This is perhaps not a café to lounge in unless you swipe more cushions from under a neighbour but G&G is in every other way superb. The clientele include passing carry-oot-ers, a glamorous granny, mum and toddler lunch, the standard toy dogs and their people and an estate agent, captivated by last night match on his phone. Actually, I see it’s Minecraft. You can sit outside if you prefer reality.
Back at the van there is another van. The waiting driver, a stylish female chimney sweep, smiles at me. Well, maybe not specifically at me, but we’re in the van fellowship. Before I can come up with anything great about Dick van Dyke, Mary Poppins, brushes etc she is gone. I still can’t come up with anything now.
Giffnock. Grain and Grind. Fantastic. That’s not me outside by the way. My mother-in-law doesn’t approve of grown men wearing ‘pumps’ outside the house.
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