Foodfellas

One sunny Clydebank day, my wee Aunty Ellen went on a walk and brought back some chips for me, mother bear and my Aunty Irene. They were delicious: not at all greasy and perfectly portioned. ‘Oh sainted aunt!’ said I, ‘Where didst thou getteth these fried potaoes? For they are heavenly!’ to which she replied ‘Foodfellas, dearest niece, now stop talking liketh a twat and eat your chipeths!’
Eat them I did, vowing to myself that I’d visit this exquisite establishment again to purchase further chips. I’m nothing if not a woman of my word, so the next time I was en route to visit Aunty Irene, I stopped off at Foodfellas to pick up some resources and, by God, I wish I hadn’t.
I was greeted by the two greasiest girls I’ve ever seen (I know that sounds harsh, I don’t mean it to, but it’s the truth, so there you go…), who weren’t wearing hairnets, nor were they even wearing their hair up. Their tabbards were covered in… well, food and grease presumably, but I’m going to call it ‘matter’. They had false nails, too, and I noticed that each girl had at least one nail missing… boak! I used to work in Greggs in the glory days of undergraduatedom and, though I hate hate hated every last bit of working for those bastards, I have to admit they know what they’re talking about when it comes to food hygeine.
I watched the people in front of me order burgers, chips and sandwiches. The girl who made the sandwiches didn’t use gloves or even separate tongs for the meat/​veggie selection: I watched her hand grab the ingredients and my stomach began to churn.
Cooking the burger was horrendous to watch: the other girl slapped a pale thing on a very dirty cooker top and then began ‘washing up’, i.e. dunking containers and not scrubbing anything. She then cut her finger on a rusty knife and came back with a flesh-​coloured plaster: I know my imagination is rather fertile, but even I didn’t think I could be far off the mark thinking that she must have bled into several items of food at least once before… I felt sick.
Then the chips: oh God, the oil couldn’t have been changed for an age and because she had put too many in, Greasy Girl #1 used her acrylic-​nailed fingers to remove the excess from the polystyrene packet. Several dropped down the side of the cooker and nobody seemed to notice/​care. At this point, I think my stomach dropped through the floor.
Needless to say, I changed my mind about the chips, faked a phone call on my mobile, pretended to go outside for a better signal and went away, thankful to have discovered the truth before I choked to death on a finger nail…

lovely food good service!

Like all the best cafes, Foodfellas takes exactly the same ingredients as you would use in your own house, cooks the simplest dish possible, yet still it ends up tasting, well, much better than your own almost identical effort.
This isn’t exactly cordon bleu stuff but it’s good old fashioned Scottish stodge and filled rolls. It’s also incredibly cheap with a nice, simple, compact set up. Great name, great café.

Great wee place the food is really top notch. The staff are very friendly as well