The new Glasgow restaurant that serves sexy cocktails and stunning small plates in this cool basement venue

I am paying penance for a Bacchanalian festive period.

For a couple of weeks back then, I went the full Oliver Reed, except with food rather than booze, though there was a decent slosh of that, too.

I forgot where my ‘off’ switch was located. This month, I am trying to behave. However, I will make an exception for this exciting venue.

It’s conveniently situated in a subterranean space, which is kitted out in the style of a Seventies steakhouse, except with a DJ booth at one end. It resembles one of the restaurants in the film Boogie Nights.

Since there are no windows, there isn’t an opportunity for your personal trainer or Slimming World coach to walk past, clock you and give you a dirty stare.

The venue is owned by the Scoop group, who are behind small plate pioneers including the decade-old Ox & Finch and four-year-old Ka Pao, with branches in Edinburgh and Glasgow. That’s as well as the box fresh Margo, which is upstairs from Sebb’s and the yin to its yang. The head chef at the basement location is Danny Curruthers, who has experience at venues including Glasgow’s Chardon D’Or, and Le Gavroche and Lyle’s in London.

You can see him, and the rest of the team, sacrificing their daily Vitamin D quota, in the partially open kitchen, where the focus is cooking over fire.

We kicked off with cocktails, since they’re also a speciality. The miso and malt old fashioned (£11) was probably more suitable as a digestif than an aperitif, but it was SO up my street, with a mouth-coating mixture of miso and brown butter whisky, passionfruit and Guinness reduction.

Sebb's Miso Old Fashioned | Connor Stewart

If it could talk, this drink would have a gravelly timbre like the new Nosferatu.

My other half also loved the relatively light, bright and smoky Manifesto (£14) with mezcal, coconut rum, triple sec, lime and a froth of Oggs aquafaba.

The food comes as it’s ready, and the first dish to sidle up on its red and white branded plate, was the tequila verdita cod ceviche (£9.50).

Thanks to the minty, coriander, jalapeno and lime based verdita ingredient, this tasted greener than Kermit in the throes of jealousy (probably over a two-timing by Miss Piggy). It felt restorative, like my palate was being reset by each delicate petal of soft fish.

Next to arrive was the rolled lahmacun (£7.50) - a Turkish pizza in a tube, like a new Ikea carpet. This was more stodgy and homely, with a spicy topping of lamb mince. We regarded this one with trepidation, since it was so filling, and there was plenty more to come.

The Texan hot link (£9) was another hot bomb of a dish. The sliced smoked sausage, topped with crispy onions and teamed with a tangy and tamarindy barbecue sauce, as well as bread and butter pickles, made me want to clamber onto a rodeo bull and ride ‘em cowboy. Yee-haa.

Sebb's Jerk Spiced Pork Neck | Connor Stewart

I realised at this point that we’d accidentally ordered all the spicy things. It’s easy to do, when a menu is peppered (literally) by buzzwords including ‘banana chill’, ‘atom dip’ and ‘fermented hot sauce’. I’d say that more than half of all options sound, at the very least, piquant.

I can handle it, though I was secretly relieved that the jerk pork neck (£12.50) didn’t score too highly on the Scoville test. The chestnut-hued sauce on this beautifully soft cut was almost chocolatey or chipotle-y, with a nest of shredded celeriac and apple salad on the side, to temper the manageable and moreish tingle.

Our picanha steak (£18) was mercifully on the mild side. The meat was pink and tender, with mustardy and herby bright orange cowboy butter slathered over the top, and a charred baby gem as an accompaniment.

We also went for the side of spiced fries, with garlic and herb aioli (£4), which was a massive garden trug’s worth of skinny chippage - enough to serve two, or three people, really.

So, yeah, we could’ve done without pudding and I definitely couldn’t have handled the tiramisu (£6.50).

However, we thought we could probably manage the other dessert of barbecued plums, coconut yogurt and pistachios (£6.50), since it was one of our five-a-day.

I’m glad we did, as this was a lovely not-too-sweet assemblage that was balm to our pleasingly scorched mouths.

So, I know this is traditionally the time of year for self denial.

I may have rediscovered my ‘off’ switch in January, but it’s okay to press pause on that for an hour or two.

Nobody will spot you down here anyway.

Sebb’s, 68b Miller Street, Glasgow (0141-739 9381, www.sebbs.com)