Considering he's worked a frantic 16 hours a day, five days a week for most of his career, it should come as no surprise that restaurateur Gordon Yuill's home is a much-cherished haven of tranquillity. However frazzled he might be after serving up to 1000 covers a week, peace envelops him every time he walks through the front door of his handsome 1904 townhouse conversion in the west end of Glasgow.

There are several Iain Faulkner paintings, each with their trademark image of a faceless man standing motionless by an unmoving sea. Turn around and the view from all three stained-glass bay windows is the unbroken green of oaks and birches. Adding to the ambience is Yuill's loyal companion, his black Scottie dog Duncan, who is a study of quiet contentment as he sits by a window in an art deco leather chair, patiently awaiting his master's return and his evening meal of home-made chicken and rice. Duncan is blissfully unaware he is being overlooked by a Boy Eating Fish, painted by the Glasgow artist Stephen Conroy.

It's a hard-won serenity. In between being maitre d' at the world-famous Rogano restaurant in Glasgow for 17 years, running his own restaurants in the city, and more recently launching the Catch 22 fish restaurant as the newly appointed business development manager of Stefan King's G1 group of bars and restaurants, Yuill has somehow found the time to make the Victorian apartment his own.

Although now a shrine to contemporary Scottish art and a showcase for Yuill's beloved art deco period, it is far from over-styled. There is none of the hush of reverence you might find at a modern art gallery. Rather, his is a welcoming and highly sociable space. "After spending the day straightening chairs and cutlery in the restaurant, the last thing I need is to come home to a place where I'm frightened to sit down, " he says. "I wanted to make it comfortable and inviting; somewhere you could just come home and crash out."

To this end, a pair of Polish ottomans from the 1930s sit at each side of the dining table and dominate the main room, which has been divided into areas for breakfasting, dining and lounging.

A striking art deco sunburst mirror oversees proceedings from one wall, while two large heads painted by Glasgow School of Art (GSA) graduate Kirsten Riley look out from another. Sitting by the door are two charming ceramic busts by another GSA graduate, Matthew Healey, now a model-maker at Aardman Animations, home of Wallace and Gromit. A silver toothpick-holder by yet another GSA graduate, Linda Robertson, echoes both art deco and art nouveau. It features "every discipline of silversmithing, from corrugation to seamless cone", Yuill explains proudly.

This is a home packed full of art and stories, reflecting the passion for people that has put the gregarious Yuill at the top of his profession. Staying front of house is clearly his forte: his own businesses closed in 2003 and 2004. Throughout the flat hang no fewer than 65 paintings, all by Scottish artists. There are several more original Conroys, one of Yuill himself, given to him by Conroy as a 40th birthday gift. Though he doesn't shout about it, he's clearly a committed patron of young Scottish talent, though he jokingly calls it "a wee Glasgow Boys collection".

It was not always thus. When Yuill - the Peter Pan of catering - first bought the flat 20 years ago, it had been run as a bedsit business and the beautiful south-facing lounge, with its double bay window of unusual geometric art deco stained glass, was divided into two rooms that cast a gloomy shadow over the rest of the flat. The spare bedroom on the mezzanine level was also divided into two, while the main bedroom was being used as a lounge. "It was partition city, " recalls Yuill. "I spent two years ripping out Gyprock. Then I discovered that the walls had been Artexed. It had to be replastered from top to bottom."

All the rooms are accessible from the hallway, which features four 17thcentury Flemish stained oak doors fitted by previous owners. The door leading to the kitchen is different, however: it is white with a round etched window featuring Neptune, god of the sea. "It's attributed to Charles Cameron Baillie, who did all the etched glass on the Queen Mary, " explains Yuill. "I got it for a pound at the Barras."

On the 1930s desk is an original table bell ringer of the type featured in many Charles Rennie Mackintosh paintings.

"There are a few establishments in town that could do with some of these, " Yuill says. His remit at the G1 Group is to "up the ante in terms of service". He is training up young staff in the fine art of meeting and greeting, front of house and paying attention to detail - all the things that make a restaurant experience memorable and competitive, even at the mid-market level. "We can never forget that there are 800 licensed units out there and that people have a choice, " he says. "And the days of people paying GBP20 for a main course are over."

Yuill is a veteran of his profession. He began in the business when, as a 21-year-old head barman at the Holiday Inn during the 1970s, he was poached by the Glasgow restaurateur and hotelier Ken McCulloch to work at The Buttery, The Granary and finallyRogano. "Customers are so much more demanding than they were 20 years ago, " Yuill muses as he swithers between shirts for the evening shift at Catch 22.

"They are more knowledgeable and they know what's good. Restaurants can no longer fob people off by telling them something's authentic when it's not. World travel has made people food smart. Also, they won't eat things they think aren't good for them, such as cream, butter and desserts. Trying to sell the dessert menu is a disaster these days.

"The good thing is that front-of-house restaurant staff are up for it and want to be lifted up to another level. I tell them this is a proper job and that I've been doing it all my life."

Yuill left school in East Kilbride with eight O grades and four Highers, and though he wanted to be an actor he attended the Glasgow hotel school because it was what his late parents wanted. He lasted six weeks.

"I left because couldn't bear another three years in the classroom, " he says. "The academic thing wasn't for me. Besides, I'd already got a taste of restaurant life and earning money. I found it fulfilled many of my ambitions of being an actor. There's so much drama and theatre in restaurants. Let's face it, the restaurant floor is just another stage."

Although he has never trained as a chef, he does enjoy cooking at home on his few free evenings. He loves the conviviality of eating with friends and having them round while he's doing the prepping and cooking. He is proud of his brand-new black and white kitchen. The oval table is white tempered glass, while the breakfast bar and worktops are black tempered glass. Around the recessed sink is stunning reclaimed Vitrolite splashback, a nod to his devotion to art deco. A collection of black and white glass table lamps from Ikea completes the monochrome picture, which is broken only by a collection of framed abstract textiles commissioned from another GSA graduate, Linzi Meek, and a small, wall-mounted television - the only one he has in the house.

Scottish scallops, monkfish and lamb are his favourite ingredients. "I don't cook very often, which is why it's so special to me, " he says. Even if he did have more time off, he says, he would not know what to do with it. "I've worked in the evening all my life. And I wouldn't know what to do with a weekend off, " he says. "If I'm off during the day I have panic attacks at around 4pm, not knowing what to do with myself. The restaurant industry is my whole life and all my friends have been made through it."

He's never had a problem with his weight, although recently - since joining Stefan King - he has lost half a stone. He says this is through a regime not of dieting but of "standing looking at myself in the mirror and doing stretches".

Smiling triumphantly, he rushes from his bedroom - a study in bottle green, with dark wood Venetian blinds, several more Faulkner paintings and an entire wall of portraits by local artist Angela Reilly, the recipient of a BP Portrait Award. He's finally chosen his shirt and it's a bright Thomas Pink number in striking contrast to his navy Paul Smith suit (he gave up wearing Versace when the designer shop moved out of Glasgow). Its tight fit flatters as he moves swiftly to the door. And with the ease of a practised professional, the Peter Pan of eating out flies off into the night.