In the space that once housed The Gannet, chef-patron Peter McKenna and Maître D’ Kevin Dow have created something that feels both refined and effortlessly relaxed with Eleven Fifty Five.
After an incredible 12 year run The Gannet, a Glasgow institution, closed its doors at the end of last year.
In its place on Argyle Street in Finnieston now sits Eleven Fifty Five – a warm, welcoming neighbourhood eatery inspired by cosy Irish snugs and classic Parisian bistros.
The 52-cover restaurant is the latest venture from McKenna, one of Glasgow’s most acclaimed chefs, and Dow, arguably the city’s most beloved Maître D’.
Since the doors closed at The Gannet for a final time at the end of 2025, the restaurant has undergone significant renovation, drawing inspiration from cosy Irish snugs, years of travel and Parisian bistros.
The furniture has been handcrafted by local carpenters and the space upholstered with forest green tones.
Some of The Gannet’s recognisable brickwork remains, while the back dining area has been completely stripped back and reworked to create a snug area ideal for private parties, with a nod to Scotland and Ireland’s proud whisky heritage.
It’s impressive for a well-established fine dining restaurant to confront the pressures facing today’s hospitality sector by undertaking such a reinvention.
The bar area has been altered to accommodate space for dining. That’s where I am seated when I arrive on a busy Friday night. Think, low lighting, soft chatter, and service that feels intuitive rather than rehearsed.
But let’s talk about the food because that’s where it really shines.
The menu is quietly confident rather than showy. This is cooking that’s rooted in seasonality – no unnecessary flourishes, just bold, clean flavours and beautifully balanced plates.
Every dish feels considered, like it’s been tweaked and tasted until it lands exactly where it should. It’s the kind of menu where you start planning your return halfway through the meal.
We begin, as all good meals should, with the snacks – two perfectly bronzed milk bread buns alongside a wheaten loaf with a dark, sweet and salty crust that’s as striking as it is delicious.
Oysters follow in a trio of styles – natural, Vietnamese, and tempura with a punchy hot sauce – each offering its own contrast in texture and flavour.
But it’s the pig’s head croquettes that steal the early spotlight. Crisp on the outside, yielding within, and paired with sharp pickled vegetables and a herb-laced mayonnaise, they deliver an extraordinary depth of flavour in a single bite. How McKenna coaxes such intensity into something so small is nothing short of remarkable.
Starters continue in the same confident vein. A thoughtful reworking of white pudding arrives paired with ‘cabinet’ mushrooms – grown in the underbelly of the restaurant and visible to diners en route downstairs.
The smoked chicken wings are crispy and elevated with a vibrant tangle of carrot, green beans, and tarragon, all brought together by a sharp shallot dressing.
When it comes to mains, I find myself drawn – somewhat unexpectedly – to the grilled cabbage. A rare diversion into vegetarian territory, but one that more than justifies itself.
It arrives alongside a deeply comforting white bean and mushroom cassoulet, enriched with a salty lift from a seaweed emulsion that ties the dish together excellently.
From the specials board, Denhead Farm asparagus makes an appearance, and knowing its provenance well (it’s a close friend’s family farm), it feels almost obligatory. It doesn’t disappoint – fresh and treated with a great respect on the grill.
Across the table, the Himalayan salt-aged ribeye with Bordelaise is a showstopper. Perfectly pink inside, with an incredible sear and salty crust, it’s a showstopper and quite possibly one of the finest steaks I’ve encountered.
On Kevin’s recommendation, we close with two of his favourite desserts – and it’s a fitting end to the meal.
The choux au craquelin, filled with white chocolate, is delicately structured yet indulgent, while the sour cream mousse brings a welcome tang that keeps things feeling light.
But it’s the ‘chocolate bar’ that truly lingers in the memory, served alongside an exceptional Guinness ice cream. This isn’t Guinness in name alone, there’s a distinct, gently bitter stout note running through it, cutting through the richness of the chocolate and elevating the entire dish.
Reinvention is rarely without risk, and more often than not, what comes before casts a long shadow. Yet Eleven Fifty Five feels like a rare exception – a reimagining that not only honours its past but quietly surpasses it.
The name above the door may have changed, but the spirit of the place endures. This has all the makings of a modern Glasgow institution, and one that seems destined to stand the test of time.
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