16/06/24

Henderson Street, Leith

Birthdays are an opportunity to push the boat out and we’ve heard good things about Heron, a Michelin starred restaurant out in the culinary kingdom of The Shore. We like the sound of their tasting menus and decide the best way to work up an appetite for them (standard for me and pescatarian for Susan) will be to walk there via the Water of Leith. There’s a few light rain showers en route but we arrive right on time, order our drinks and settle down in the light and spacious dining room. We don’t have to wait long. The service here is prompt and attentive.

First up there’s something called cucumber (Heron, it turns out, has a gift for understatement). This is a bowl of chilled cucumber granita, vibrant with stem ginger and jalapeno. It’s closely followed by langoustine (mini cups of squid ink nori filled with the titular shellfish) and Isle of Wight tomato, light and sumptuous parcels stuffed with burrata. Pop these into your mouth and they sort of melt away in an explosion of pure flavour.

There are chunks of freshly baked sourdough with smooth crab butter, which I tell myself I shall eat slowly, but I fail, simply because it’s just too damned delicious.

Now comes mackerel, the salty fish liberally sprinkled with chunky hazelnuts, ponzu and blackcurrant leaf and I keep reminding myself I’m supposed to be critical but I’m too busy eating. Potato may be the most unassuming name given to a dish in the entire history of fine dining and yet this single new spud, cooked hasselback style, studded with crisps and sprinkled with orange roe, is a little wonder. It’s surrounded by a creamy oyster sauce that makes me reach for ever-more elaborate words to describe its joys. Scrumptious? Mouthwatering? De-fucking-licious? So far it’s the stand-out and it’s early yet.

Next there’s turbot, a chunk of perfectly-crisped fish, drizzled with white crab, lovage and thinly-sliced courgette, another inspired creation.

After that, Susan has spelt, an unprepossessing bowl of what looks suspiciously like porridge but which tastes of wild mushrooms and comes with a generous measure of summer truffle grated over it. And for me it’s East fortune pork, slices of slow-cooked belly meat, decorated with wild garlic, tonka and coffee.

Now to the ‘main courses’. Susan’s is red mullet; mine is Aberdeen Angus beef, perfectly cooked and accompanied by veal sweetbread, buckwheat, pepper dulse and girolle mushrooms, the whole thing liberally covered with a red wine jus. This is best described in three letters. O.M.G.

For puddings, first up is carrot – a powerfully flavoured dish, rich with ginger and pistachio. It’s hard to believe that such a little morsel can provide so much flavour.

And finally there’s lemon, something that looks every bit as fabulous as it tastes: a swirl of soft meringue, a scoop of basil sorbet, succulent pools of lemon curd, white chocolate and toasted almonds. If this meal has been a series of wonders then the last dish tops every delicious offering that has gone before.

I’m not sure there are enough accolades in the lexicon to adequately express how good this meal is. Put it this way: if you love adventurous cooking and you’re looking to celebrate a special occasion, I’d be hard pressed to think of anywhere better than Heron to spend your hard-earned cash. It’s ridiculously easy to see why it was awarded that much-coveted star and, if they keep up this kind of impeccable standard, a second surely won’t be long in coming.

5 stars

Philip Caveney