Food

Montrose

16/11/25

Montrose Terrace, Edinburgh

We’re in the mood for a spot of high-end lunch and we’ve heard good things about Montrose, which is a sister establishment to Timberyard, one of the undoubted stars in the Edinburgh culinary firmament. Montrose claims to offer a more relaxed kind of cuisine at reasonable prices so, in order to put that claim to the test, we take a leisurely stroll over to Montrose Terrace to sample their three-course set lunch.

The offer is all three courses for £30, with a small selection of side-dishes, which can be added for a little more outlay. The menu is changed on a monthly basis, though the advertised dishes can be tweaked if somebody has an allergy issue or a pronounced dislike of one of the key ingredients. But, as we so often claim, there’s not much out there that we won’t eat.

The restaurant has a calm, pleasant atmosphere and is arranged on two levels. (Halfway up the stairs there’s what must qualify as the smallest customer toilet in Edinburgh.) The staff are friendly and easy to chat to as we order drinks and wait for our two additional dishes to arrive.

These are a Pickle Plate and a Cantabrian Anchovy Gilda. The former is a plate of crunchy pickles served with a tangy dressing, amid which some beautifully-sweet gooseberries are undoubtedly the stars. The latter turns out to be a single (though quite delicious) fresh anchovy nestled on some truly scrumptious olives. For £5, I find myself wishing we had an anchovy apiece.

Next up is our starter, which is Crown Prince Pumpkin with trevino, hazelnut and rosemary. There’s a decent-sized chunk of slow roasted pumpkin, drizzled with a creamy, nutty sauce and there’s a lot of (too much?) green salad, which is as fresh as you like, but leaves me feeling that this dish perhaps needs an extra element to make it zing.

The main course is essentially the restaurant’s take on sausage and beans, though it’s a lot more interesting than that sounds. It comprises two spicy slices of Venison and Pork Kofta, a chunk of crispy seared shallot and some earthy black-eyed beans. They’ve even managed to make an accompanying portion of kale taste good. It’s a great idea and perfectly suited to an autumn lunch.

Pudding must inevitably follow. Out comes a Pear, Vanilla and Walnut Trifle, which – while it’s not the most photogenic of dishes, the colours all being variations of brown – is nonetheless a lip-smacking delight. It’s like somebody’s crossed a tiramisu with a crumble and this is the weird but oddly satisfying result. I’m definitely in favour taste-wise, but surely a scattering of bright red raspberries would make this look a lot more appetising.

With drinks, this meal comes in at around £90, which in these troubled times represents good value for this standard of cuisine. We depart, sated and happy, and ready for – you’ve guessed it – a visit to the cinema.

4 stars

Philip Caveney

Baba

02/11/25

George Street, Edinburgh

We’re dubbing today the ‘Double-B’ – we’ve just been to Cineworld to see Bugonia and now we’re in Baba, keen to sate our hunger while we chat about the film.

Baba has been on our radar for a while. It’s part of the Scoop group, which also boasts the excellent Ox and Finch and – our favourite – Ka Pao. Like these, Baba is a fusion restaurant, this one blending Levantine cuisine with distinctly Scottish ingredients. The menu is very enticing.

After some deliberation, I decide to start with buffalo mozzarella. A generous portion of creamy cheese arrives, topped with sour cherries, harissa and basil, a flavour combo which comes as something of a revelation. It’s delectable. It’s served with pitta as standard but, as I’m in the process of working out if I have a gluten intolerance, I ask for the NGCI alternative. This takes the form of a paper bag filled with two charred slices of GF bread, which complement the mozzarella perfectly.

Philip opts for pan-fried cod cheeks, which come with prawns, merguez, butterbeans and toasted pitta. The dish as a whole is excellent, but it’s the prawns that stand out. They’re huge and wonderfully flavoured.

For our main, we decide to share a Baba mixed grill, comprising slow-cooked lamb shoulder, pork neck, chicken thigh and grilled veg, accompanied with harissa, zhug, tahini and herbs. It’s a simple dish, but the meat is tender and very well cooked, and we enjoy it immensely. We also have a side of blackened sweet potato, elevated by a mixture of saffron crème fraîche and harissa, which I’m planning to try to recreate at home.

Naturally we both want pudding. I have a dark chocolate and tahini crémeux, wiith sesame tuilles and my second helping of both cherries and crème fraîche, while Philip has a tahini cookie, with peanut praline, orange and chantilly cream. Both deliver the lip-smacking sweetness we’re craving, and we scrape our plates clean.

We leave the restaurant feeling pleasantly full, and head out into the November evening, debating whether or not to call at the Filmhouse bar for a (non-alcoholic) nightcap to round things off. Of course the answer is yes. After all, we’ve still got loads to discuss about the film, and what better place to do it?

4.4 stars

Susan Singfield

The Wee Choo-Choo

28/09/25

Platform Three, Rie-Achan Road, Pitlochry, Perthshire

We’re in Pitlochry as part of a five-day camper-van trip and we’re getting a bit bored of the simple meals we can rustle up on our tiny stove, so we decide to look online for somewhere good to eat. There are plenty of cafes and inns to choose from but the place that really catches our eye is The Wee Choo Choo. As the name suggests, it’s a restaurant in an unusual location: a specially converted train carriage – and not just any old train! The last time we saw this 1960s locomotive it was thundering across a movie screen in Mission Impossible: Dead Reckoning, while up on the roof Tom Cruise and Esai Morales were engaged in fisticuffs.

Rescued from a storage depot in darkest Middlesex by steam train enthusiast Fergus McCallum, one of the train’s carriages is now a high-end Thai restaurant. McCallum’s wife, Isara, handles the cooking and his daughter, Mia, takes care of the management, while McCallum acts as mâitre de. It’s Saturday midday when we drop by and there are a lot of bookings for the evening so, at first, it looks like we’re going to be out of luck, but Mia promises she will call us if she can possibly squeeze us in.

The hours pass and, just as we’re contemplating the prospect of another one-pot meal, our phone rings and Mia tells us there’s been a last-minute cancellation. We virtually sprint the short distance from our campsite to platform three…

Of course, it crosses my mind on the way there that, with such a unique setting, the food may just be mediocre fare, but happily this is not the case. On the contrary, the meal we sit down to represents some of the best Thai cuisine I’ve ever eaten. We begin with a couple of mouthwatering starters.

Goong-Sa-Rong features a couple of juicy King Prawns wrapped in crispy, crunchy yellow noodles and arranged on an avocado salsa salad. Gai Satay comprises chunks of tender marinated chicken on a skewer and a vegetable spring roll filled with crisp vegetables, glass noodles, cabbage and carrot. Both dishes are bursting with flavour and they look every bit as delightful as they taste.

The main courses are equally captivating. There’s Ma-Sa-Man Curry, slow-simmered in coconut milk. We’ve opted to try the duck leg version, (chicken or pork are also available), centred around a large drumstick, the meat of which is literally falling from the bone. It’s tender, mouth-watering and utterly captivating. It’s accompanied by a mound of perfectly cooked jasmine rice, a helping of tamarind and cinnamon potato and some crispy shallots. Moo-Ob-Nam-Pung is a generous helping of honey-pork spare ribs, slow-cooked in a sticky sweet sauce with another mound of that perfect rice. Again, the ribs are perfectly cooked and that sauce so enticing it’s all I can do to refrain from licking the plate clean.

Of course we have to try some puddings, so we opt for Rubies Pearl, a hand-rolled dessert with butterfly pea flower, sweet potato, fresh seasonal fruit in coconut milk and a scoop of homemade coconut ice cream. And then there’s the pièce de résistance, Thai Mango & Sticky Rice. We’ve heard cooks talk about these mangos, which have a very short season and are said to be the finest in the world. I have to admit, I’ve never tasted better, and when that incredible flavour mingles with warm rice pudding and more of that yummy coconut ice cream, the result is on another level.

Could this meal possibly be any better? Well, only if Tom Cruise were to suddenly climb down from the roof and come in through the window to say hello. And even then, he’d need to keep well away from these mangoes, because I’m not planning to share my portion with anyone!

Hats off to the very affable Fergus McCallum (who was more than happy to talk about his project and the culinary skills of the very talented Isara). Here’s my recommendation to anyone who happens to be within striking distance of Pitlochry in the near future: book your seats and make your way to Platform Three at full speed, where The Wee Choo Choo is waiting to supply the food of your dreams.

But hurry! Mango season is nearly over for another year…

5 stars

Philip Caveney

5 stars

Philip Caveney

Coast & Creel

20/09/25

Fountainbridge, Edinburgh

It’s a rainy evening in Edinburgh, and we’re both in the mood for seafood. Fortuitously, a new establishment has recently opened, just a stone’s throw from where we live. As the name suggests, Coast & Creel specialises in the stuff (a creel being a traditional wicker basket in which all things aquatic can be stored). And, lest I’m in danger of putting off all those diners who cannot bear the fruits of the sea, I should perhaps add that the restaurant does offer a selection of steaks, which (at least from a short distance) look pretty enticing.

I start with Chargrilled King Prawns, which arrive looking (and smelling) suitably enticing. They are perfectly cooked, left just long enough on the grill to retain that soft, buttery quality that makes them so appealing, and are accompanied by a couple of slices of sourdough, black garlic aioli and a drizzle of shellfish-infused oil. Susan’s Pan-Seared Scallops are also rather splendid: melt-in-the-mouth tender and accompanied by shrimps, clarified caper butter, parsley oil and samphire. There’s a chunk of artisan bread with which to mop up what’s left in the shell.

On to the main courses. I have chosen Fillets of Halibut. The dish arrives looking underwhelming (none of the photographs we take of it are suitable for this review) but, happily, it tastes heavenly. There are three generously-sized fillets, beautifully tender, arranged on a bed of soft, cheesy potato dauphinoise. There are a couple of chunks of al dente baby courgette, some heads of asparagus and, once again, samphire in beurre blanc. I finish the lot and have to be restrained from licking the plate.

Susan has opted for Paccheri Pasta with Creel-Caught Langoustine, which is quite a sight to behold. It comprises three large langoustine (which must, of course, be broken up with a lobster cracker in order to get to the flesh inside the shells). There are more accessible razor clams, cockles and mussels (thankfully no longer alive-alive-oh), all wallowing in an aromatic seafood bisque. The dish is finished with chilli, garlic and parmesan. Again, this is accomplished food, but am I the only one who wishes that the langoustine flesh could be extracted in the kitchen, without all that cracking, scrabbling and splintering, which leaves a diner in urgent need of an endless supply of hand wipes? I appreciate it’s part of the ritual, but it seems a great deal of effort for little return.

I can guess what you’re thinking. They surely won’t have left room for puddings.

Well, we took the precaution of keeping lunch light in order to partake, because we’re thoughtful like that – and we know our readers always want the full picture. Besides, I have spotted Sticky Toffee Pudding on the menu, which I can never resist. This one is unlike any I’ve had before with a distinctly ‘bonfire toffee’ flavour – if you can remember what that tasted like. It’s accompanied by vanilla ice cream, fruits and a delicious toffee sauce. Susan has chosen Warm Churros, which (despite having an unfortunate visual resemblance to barbecued sausages) taste quite delightful. They’re filled with dulce de leche and also feature a delicious sauce (chocolate in this case) and vanilla ice cream.

We emerge feeling pleasantly full, to see that the rain has (at least for a while) moved on. Those looking for a superior seafood experience should set sail for Fountainbridge without delay, where Coast & Creel may be exactly what you’re seeking.

4.8 stars

Philip Caveney

Nixos

06/09/25

Brougham Street, Edinburgh

6, Brougham Street has been a special place for us ever since we moved to Edinburgh. Back in 2015, when we first ate there, it was My Big Fat Greek Kitchen, a decent enough venue, though we observed at the time that the food was somewhat let down by its presentation. In 2017, it took a major step up when it became Taxidi, owned by chef Dimitri, and offering a remarkable selection of traditional Greek dishes at great value prices. In 2024, Dimitri went for a major transformation with Mitsos: Serial Griller, changing the format completely, but triumphing once again with a strikingly different approach to Greek cuisine, all freshly cooked to order on a giant grill.

Now the premises is under new ownership, has been rebranded as Nixos, and looks very different. The premises have been beautifully redecorated, making the place feel lighter and roomier than ever before. It keeps the Greek theme but puts the emphasis firmly on street food, centred mostly around the Gyros (pronounce eros): a combination of freshly-baked flatbread, filled with your choice of meat, cheese or vegetables, mixed with salad and tzatziki, then liberally augmented with fries. The idea is to pick up the entire thing and wolf it. Dainty eaters should be warned that the cutlery here is of the disposable wooden variety, so it’s best to conquer your inhibitions and chow down.

We order two different gyros. Susan goes for chicken and I opt for halloumi and, it turns out, the service is lightning-fast. Our meal arrives almost before we’ve had a chance to draw breath.

Okay, so this isn’t the place to come for a long, relaxing meal – we’re all done and dusted in half an hour – but the food is undeniably delicious, the halloumi wrap in particular generously stuffed with large chunks of perfectly grilled cheese. (Gyros are difficult to photograph. Our attempts really don’t do them justice.) We share a bowl of kalamata olives, which are spot on and we also sample a couple of Greek soft drinks in lemon and sour cherry flavours, but beers and wine are available for those who indulge. There’s currently no sweet menu (something which I’m told the owners are thinking about) and we cannot argue with the bill which comes in at less than £30 for the two of us.

We will doubtless eat this food again, but perhaps next time as a takeaway, a tastier (and healthier) alternative to pizza – unless of course, that sweet menu happens to make an appearance. If you haven’t yet sampled the handful of heaven that is a gyros, here’s your perfect opportunity.

4 stars

Philip Caveney

Royal Nawaab

06/07/25

King’s Valley, Stockport

The Stockport pyramid was on my horizon for quite a few years before I moved to Edinburgh. When I first took up residence in Heaton Moor, the place was under construction and distinctive enough to prompt me to choose it as the perfect location for a climactic showdown in my crime novel, Speak No Evil. The book was released in 1993, the year after the building was completed. The pyramid stood empty for some time and, because it was originally conceived as one of several such constructions, there were dark mutterings in the local press about ‘the Curse of the Pharaohs.’ In 1995, the Co-Operative bank chose it as their headquarters, but in 2018 they moved out and the building has stood empty ever since, looking ever more shabby and unappreciated

Until now. After a massive investment, the restaurant chain Royal Nawaab has transformed it into a huge buffet restaurant with the capacity or up to 1500 diners. With prices set at just £29.99 a head, it’s understandably popular and has recently been championed by food critic Jay Rayner. Little wonder that, despite booking a week ahead, the earliest slot our party of four can obtain is 9.15pm on Saturday evening. When we arrive, the place is buzzing. The interior has been transformed, all glitzy red-carpet glamour, spotlit fountains and shimmering light fittings. (A word of warning to those who who see a curry as an excuse for a booze-up. The Royal Nawaab is unlicensed and there’s no BYOB policy either. They do have some rather nice mocktails, though.)

Buffet restaurants are not usually my ‘go to.’ I tend to favour more leisurely dining but the joyful atmosphere tonight is certainly energising and it isn’t long before I’m eagerly grabbing a plate and taking my pick from the long line of metal tureens offering me a whole series of aromatic dishes. As ever at these places, the best option is to grab small portions of the meat, fish and vegetables and go easy on the bread, rice and poppadoms. The starters are suitably enticing and the main courses are all cooked to a very high standard.

Legions of chefs and waiters keep everything replenished and our used crockery and utensils are magically removed by the time we return to our table, bearing our latest portions like prizes. It’s all so fleeting, it’s hard to keep track of the individual dishes, but amongst our favourites of the evening are freshly-grilled chicken skewers, dahl, chicken harissa and lamb karahi. There’s also a perfectly-spiced biriyani, a prawn karahi and a Thai red curry, but there’s more – much more – than I have space – or indeed, memory – to mention here.

I’ve always maintained that puddings can make or break a great meal, and it’s in this area that perhaps there’s room for improvement. At the furthest end of the hall, there’s a selection of rather unadventurous ice creams to choose from, some variations on traditional British sweets – including the oddest version of sticky toffee pudding I’ve ever encountered. However, this is mitigated by something called Umm Ali (Egyptian bread pudding), which is, it must be said, a bit of a find. The carrot halwa is rather tasty too.

So, would I recommend the Royal Nawaab? Maybe. There’s no escaping the fact that it’s a buffet restaurant and that always involves some degree of compromise. There isn’t much opportunity for a leisurely chat with your dinner companions when you’re heading off in different directions in search of something you haven’t tried before.

But as buffets go, this is certainly up there with the best of them. For the most part, it’s good food, expertly prepared. And if value is your goal, you’d be hard pressed to find better.

4 stars

Philip Caveney

Lyla

14/06/25

Royal Terrace, Edinburgh

It has become our regular habit to visit a Michelin-starred restaurant to celebrate Susan’s birthday. As she claims it always rains on the 16th June, we tend to vary the dates a little. We book for Lyla a couple of days before the actual date – but it rains anyway. We’ve been meaning to visit Lyla ever since acclaimed chef Stuart Ralston set it up in the location that previously housed the late Paul Kitching’s much-acclaimed 21212. (Four five-star rooms are bookable on the upper floor for those who want to stay – but we live within walking distance.)

We made this booking some time ago, before Lyla was voted ‘Scotland’s Best’ in the 2025 National Restaurant Awards. So it seems a propitious time to review the place.

Lyla offers tasting menus with an emphasis on seafood and we begin the evening up in the cosy bar, sipping on drinks and sampling three extraordinary amuse bouches: alp-blossom cheese with onion and quince; bluefin tuna, nori and kashu; and Lobster kohlrabi. They are all exquisite morsels bursting with flavour and provide a promising introduction to the ten-course tasting menu we’re about to experience.

Down in the dining room, we can’t help but note that tonight’s playlist could have been chosen with Susan in mind, a mix of The Cure, The Smiths and various other indie-rock bands, all played at just the right volume. I try to persuade her that I actually arranged this detail but she isn’t falling for it. In comes the first dish proper, a delicious creation featuring cured halibut, kelp and umai caviar and it is absolutely sumptuous – a vibrant mingling of intense flavours. As it turns out, so is everything else that comes to the table. I’m not going to list every dish, but I will pick out a few highlights – please note that the bar is set very high and, to be honest, there isn’t a false note anywhere in this varied menu.

I will shout about a fabulous hand-dived scallop, crispy on top, meltingly soft below, crowned with N25 caviar and nestling in a viscous puddle of sauce choron. Also a plump, tender langoustine wrapped in crispy rice noodles with an accompanying burnt apple ketchup deserves special praise. There’s a melt-in-the-mouth wagyu steak which is tender enough to slice with a butter knife – although, in a moment of theatre, we are invited to choose from an array of fancy-handled sharp blades.

There’s a laminated brioche which, when bitten into is like the most spectacular croissant you’ve ever tasted, and is served with two very different kinds of butter. As for puddings, how about a frozen Amalfi lemon yoghurt with kombucha? Or, prettiest of all, a strawberry-topped biscuit served with créme crue and rose?

It doesn’t stop there. We enjoy coffee at the end of the meal, which is accompanied by four exquisite petit fours, one of which – a malt dulcey bon bon – looks like a piece of lapis lazuli and tastes like heaven.

Of course, a great meal isn’t just about the food. The staff at Lyla are friendly, chatty, and happy to answer any queries. The kitchen is situated in an open area at the top of the room and it’s fascinating to witness the way the chefs and waiters work as a team, keeping the busy restaurant running with clockwork precision. Sometimes the big awards must be taken with a pinch of Himalayan rock salt, but in the case of Lyla, I have to admit that it’s earned its place at the top. What’s more, it has just claimed another (much less coveted) accolade: “The best meal I’ve ever eaten.”

5 stars

Philip Caveney

LA TABLE D’YVAN

10/05/25

Mas des Carassins, St Remy de Provençe, France

We’re back in Provençe for the first time in far too long and, since we’ve promised to take the inimitable Brenda S out for a meal to celebrate her recent birthday, we’re glad to hear that she’s just as keen as we are to return to La Table d’Yvan, one of our favourite fine-dining restaurants in the area. It’s a beautiful sunny evening and the restaurant, nestled in its tranquil setting, provides a wonderful place to savour a meal. We sit at a table in the conservatory and gaze out across acres of verdant countryside, while we nibble at a platter of green olives, fresh bread and croutons.

Some things have changed since we were last here – we no longer drink alcohol – but on this occasion, we do enjoy a glass of a particularly nice 0% Sauvignon Blanc, suggested by our waiter, which proves to be one of the best I’ve tried.

The first meal to arrive is dismissed by her as a mere amuse bouche, though that hardly does justice to what she brings us: a large serving dish, elegantly laden with bowls of sumptuous guacamole decorated with spears of crisp pastry; glasses of chilled cucumber soup, a perfect choice for the current weather; and rectangles of soft, chewy parmesan focaccia. As amuse bouches go this has to be one of the most elaborate and utterly delicious creations I’ve sampled.

Onto the menu proper, and we’re served prawn three ways. There’s a delightfully-crispy tempura king prawn, the cooking perfectly executed with a zesty crunch and not a trace of greasiness. There’s a lightly-cooked prawn, beautifully contrasted by the bed of earthy spiced beans it rests on; and the final variation on the theme is a prawn liberally bathed in a tantalising creme légére. Needless to say, all iterations are promptly devoured and each of us has a different favourite.

For the main course, there’s an entrecote of beef, cooked for seven hours until it is the very definition of ‘melt-in-the-mouth.’ It resides on a bed of polenta mash and is surrounded by a generous scattering of flageolet beans and diced carrots. Each serving is topped by a reduction of butternut squash, on the peak of which a single roasted vine tomato offers a burst of even more intense flavour. The whole dish is drizzled with a beautiful red wine jus and I find myself unable to resist mopping the plate clean with the hunk of soft, white bread I’ve been saving for just such an opportunity.

Next up, there’s a selection of five cheeses, varying from a mild, creamy goats’ cheese to a ripe, flavoursome gorgonzola, and ticking all the boxes in between. There’s no messing about here, just the cheeses and more bread if required, though we skip the latter, wanting to leave room for something sweet.

Which brings me – I’m delighted to say – to the pudding, a picturesque creation of strawberries, chantilly cream and sorbet, which looks absolutely fabulous and tastes even more so.

Did I mention that this establishment manages to bring in these superb dishes at prices that represent exceptional value for money? Well, they do and I’m saying it now: if you live in the area or are planning to travel to Provençe any time soon, this restaurant should definitely be on your ‘to visit’ list.

Everything about it – the location, the price and, of course, the food, is quite simply magnifique.

5 stars

Philip Caveney

Kanpai

06/04/25

Grindlay Street, Edinburgh

We’ve lived in Edinburgh for around a decade, yet for a variety of reasons, have never eaten at Kanpai – only a few steps away from where we live – until a couple of friends suggest meeting there for dinner. First impressions are certainly promising. Behind that modest, unassuming doorway, there’s a relaxed and convivial dining room that exudes good vibes. Kanpai means ‘cheers’ and the name seems a good fit, even if we are still on the wagon. There’s an initially bewildering array of dishes to choose from but the friendly staff are more than happy to offer advice.

The recent boom in sushi restaurants around the city means that there are now plenty of venues offering this kind of cuisine, but it’s clear from the word go that Kanpai’s offerings are a step up from the low-budget eateries we’ve previously visited. There are four of us to dine so we opt to share everything, which means that a riot of dishes, each more colourful than the last, keeps arriving at short intervals before being promptly despatched.

Everything is perfect: the California and Tokyo hand rolls faultlessly assembled; the tuna and avocado maki melt-in-the-mouth delicious. ‘Pace yourself,’ I keep thinking, but then the next platter arrives and I can’t quite hold myself back. Amidst a plethora of excellence, a few dishes stand out from the rest, but I have to say, it’s a pretty high bar.

There’s a delicious plate of pan-fried chicken and vegetable dumplings, perfect when dunked in the bowl of accompanying sauce, and there’s a portion of Tappoyaki octopus fish cakes that are absolutely bursting with flavour. A mizo-glazed aubergine cooked in its skin is as soft and caramelised as you could possibly wish for – indeed, it’s impossible to resist scraping out the skin with a spoon to get those last flecks of goodness into your mouth.

There’s a platter of tempora king prawns, and though tempora can sometimes be my sticking point – the crispy batter tending towards greasiness – this is exactly as it should be: light, dry and crunchy, an object lesson in the fine art of deep frying. A teppan terriyaki salmon is the final course to arrive, perfectly cooked and wonderfully aromatic, the skin finished to an exquisite crisp, the flesh beneath soft.

Would we care to finish off by trying one of Kanpai’s ice creams? Hell, yes! I opt for white sesame flavour (black sesame is also available), while Susan tries the soba, which has a delicate nutty texture. It’s the perfect way to finish off a note-perfect meal and we leave Kanpai feeling that this is up there with the best Japanese food we’ve eaten in the city. One thing’s for certain, we’ll be back.

5 stars

Philip Caveney

Number One at the Balmoral Hotel

30/11/24

Princes Street, Edinburgh

In the ten years since we bought our Edinburgh flat, we’ve been slowly working our way through the city’s impressive roster of fine-dining establishments. Number One, situated next to Waverley Station in the basement of the iconic Balmoral Hotel, has long been on our radar and tonight, at last, it’s time to sample its delights.

And delightful they are.

We opt for the seven-course tasting menu. We tend to prefer this to a traditional à la carte three-course meal, mainly because it pushes us out of our comfort zones and makes us try new things – or reassess old ones. Take celeriac, for example. I’d never choose it. But it shows up this evening in the fifth course, and it turns out I like it very much indeed when its been mashed and deep fried into a little bonbon of perfection.

How many synonyms are there for delicious’? Because there’s no other way to describe the plates of… deliciousness we’re presented with. We start with canapés, tiny mouthfuls of loveliness: one duck liver, one cullen skink and one truffle choux. These are followed by a small loaf of freshly-baked linseed sourdough bread and butter, an irresistible mix.

The first course is Ullapool brown crab, a light, delicate concoction of crab custard, topped with crab claws and toasted almonds. It’s silky and airy and utterly, um… delicious.

Next up is Pittenweem lobster, which is perhaps my favourite course. We’re not required to mess about with nutcrackers (or chainsaws, for that matter) because it’s all been done for us: one neatly extracted claw and tail apiece, as well as a gyoza-style dumpling and a bisque. All the joy of a lobster without any of the hard work.

The partridge, from Gleneagles Estate, is another triumph. This comes with leek and fennel, and is stuffed with some kind of bacony-pork concoction that works really well with the more subtly-flavoured game.

Shetland halibut is next to appear, and it’s cooked to melt-in-the-mouth perfection, topped with Oscietra caviar and sitting in a pool of more-ish beurre blanc. This is Philip’s favourite fish and he’s not disappointed. That’s right: it’s delicious.

The final savoury course is Hopetoun Estate roe deer, the saddle served medium rare (we’re given the option to select a preference here, but we trust head chef Mathew Sherry and his team to know how long the meat needs cooking for). There’s also an intensely earthy sausage and the aforementioned game-changing celeriac.

We decide against the optional cheese course at this juncture, because there are still two puddings to go and we’re getting pretty full. Instead, we head straight to the exquisitely-presented Balmoral honey dessert, with honeycomb and a yoghurt ice cream. It’s superb.

The last item on the menu is a pumpkin soufflé, as light as air, with a sliver of gingerbread buried inside. The accompanying pumpkinseed praline is a revelation, and the super-sweet ganache topping adds that extra oomph to make the whole thing pop.

We order decaf coffees to finish off, which come with a selection of petit fours, of which the sea buckthorn meringue tart and peanut butter macaron are the standouts.

And then, a mere three hours after our arrival, we head back out into the Edinburgh night and begin our short walk home.

In a nutshell: deliciously delicious.

5 stars

Susan Singfield