Food

Bite Me!

25/09/17

Haymarket Terrace, Edinburgh

Whenever we’re trudging up Morrison Street into the city centre – usually on our way back home from the Haymarket tram stop – we comment on bite me!, a delightful-looking sandwich shop on the corner of Haymarket Terrace. It just looks so inviting: all gleaming white tiles, perfectly-shaped scones and clean, vibrant decor. But we rarely have an excuse to stop – we’re never passing at a meal time or when we’re sufficiently exhausted to think we need a break.

Today is different though. Today, we’ve had to get up early to take our car in for a service. We slept in later than we meant to, so we’ve not had time for breakfast: we’re tired, hungry and a little hungover from last night’s visit to the pub. We’re fantasising about food, and then – like a mirage – bite me! looms ahead. We look at each other; we’re of one accord. We don’t even need to speak. Wordless, we head through the door.

It’s as appealing inside as it is from the kerb. There’s a chalkboard behind the counter; the counter itself is stuffed full of sandwiches and cakes, all so appetising it’s hard to know what to order. But then I spot ‘breakfast rolls’ on the menu, and it’s clear what direction this treat is taking. We both order coffee with egg and bacon rolls – his with brown sauce, mine with red – and take a seat in the pretty bird-themed annexe.

Before long, the rolls arrive. They’re wrapped in paper, and the coffee is in cardboard cups. But the food inside the wrapper is spot on: a soft, fresh bap, crispy smoked bacon and a perfectly fried egg. It’s not greasy at all, and it’s piping hot. It’s a simple meal, but a very satisfying one.

We don’t like the coffee quite as much, but suspect that’s our own fault. We’ve learned since moving to Edinburgh that we need to request a ‘single shot’ – the norm here is a double and that’s too strong for us. We forgot to ask this time, which is a shame.

Still, for warm friendly service and a pleasant place to eat a decent snack, bite me! would be hard to beat. And we’ll be back some time to try those scones!

4 stars

Susan Singfield

The Foresters Arms

02/09/17

Carlton

Fiftieth anniversaries don’t come around all that often – only every oh…. fifty years. So, of course, as my in-laws are celebrating their golden wedding, the proverbial boat is pushed out on behalf of the happy couple and a rather splendid country retreat in the wilds of North Yorkshire is booked for the weekend. We’re putting on a buffet for the main event but, of course, there still needs to be a meal out and it’s useful if the venue can be reached on foot – so the necessary research is done and it’s discovered that we can eat en famille at The Foresters Arms in the local village, a picturesque community pub. Keith and Lesley, the owners, are a quirky delight: friendly and sardonic in equal measure; there’s a real warmth to this place (even though they’re very hot on the reminders that we should be on time).

There are eight of us to dine and we are quickly seated and our food brought to us. I begin with the smoked bacon and black pudding salad, topped with a runny poached egg, which is absolutely delightful, even if it does have the vegetarians in our group looking aghast. There is also a fine grilled goat’s cheese salad across the table and a lot of bowls of tomato and basil soup, which, since everyone who ordered it has eschewed cream, tastes rather tangier than it might do. Still, that’s their own fault for rejecting the dairy delight.

Next up for me is a steak and ale pie, served with creamy mash. The pie is delicious, deeply flavoursome and topped with a light crispy pastry. Susan goes for the smoked haddock, which comes with a lovely cheesy sauce, rich with the flavour of English mustard. For the vegetarians, there is a very good gnocchi and a vegetable lasagne, both of which are pronounced ‘very tasty.’ Our nephew has ordered a butterfly chicken but it must have fluttered away because I never get a chance to sample it. I should perhaps add that two huge helpings of steamed vegetables are also brought to the table, much more than could ever be consumed by mere humans, but they’re nicely cooked so we do our best.

The Foresters also offers an array of delicious traditional puddings, but there is a rather splendid cake waiting for us back at the cottage, so we head back for that instead. Should you find yourself in the vicinity of Calton and you don’t have a fiftieth anniversary cake waiting for you, maybe you could sample those puddings and let us know what you think? Otherwise, it’s hats off to Keith and Lesley and their staff for feeding us so well and hopefully we’ll be back to celebrate the big 100th in 2067…. we promise to be on time!

4 stars

Philip Caveney

Tigerlily

 

28/08/17

George Street, Edinburgh

We are having our kitchen replaced and there’s clearly no way there is going  to be any cooking going on at home tonight – so isn’t it fortuitous that a friend has recently bought us some vouchers for Tigerlily? And we haven’t been up that end of town for ages, so it’s all fallen together really nicely. There’s always a great buzz at Tiger Lily – we love the OTT decor, the cheerful friendliness of the staff and the fact that  there’s generally some kind of special offer available. (Well, we have a new kitchen to pay for.) Take tonight for instance: two courses for £15. What’s not to like about that? There’s a popular expression that is often heard bandied about: ‘You get what you pay for.’ But it ain’t necessarily so.

I certainly enjoy my starter, chargrilled calamari served with saffron butter sauce and  a crispy salad. The calamari is nicely cooked and, I’m glad to note, doesn’t come encased in batter, which always serves to obscure that delicate flavour. Susan’s duck liver mousse is also beautifully done, rich and creamy and served with a tangy apple chutney. Our only criticism here is that there’s not really enough of the delightful gingerbread crisps for such a  generous portion of mousse but, as we later discover, we could simply have asked for some more, like the people at the next table did. What shrinking violets we are!

For the main course I choose the grilled Balinese chicken satay, which is a glorious treat, served with a mound of glutinous sticky rice, pickled cucumbers, prawn  crackers and a gorgeous peanut dressing. Susan is feeling gromphy, so she opts for the Scottish steak burger on a brioche bun, served with shoestring fries and kimchi  ketchup. We’ve said it before and we’ll doubtless say it again, but a burger is a  burger is a burger. This one is a decent example of the species, though the frozen  chips that accompany it are pretty generic.

The special menu offers only one pudding, a sharing plate of gooey chocolate chip cookies, with a couple  of scoops of vanilla ice cream, and pouring jugs of chocolate sauce and caramel sauce. You also get your choice of coffee to go with it. And how much for this little delight? Just £5. Yes, you heard that right. £5 for the two of us. Inevitably, we find ourselves wondering how they can do it for so little, but all that really matters is that they do it and it’s pretty irresistible.

So, a great value meal that presents like a much more expensive one, served in a lively, relaxed setting, culminating in a lovely indulgent pudding that costs less than you’d normally pay for the coffees that accompany it. As I said before, what’s not to  like? Form an orderly queue, please.

4.2 stars

Philip Caveney

 

Kyloe
http://www.dnanderson.co.uk

27/08/17

Rutland Street, Edinburgh

The Fringe is approaching its final days and we have family staying with us, seeing shows and generally hanging out. A Sunday roast seems like a capital idea and we’ve heard very good things indeed about Kyloe, where the gimmick is a whole joint serving groups of four or six, so we book a table and turn up, secure in the knowledge that there won’t be any indecision about ordering, because we’ve already done all that in advance. The interior is the right mixture of traditional and quirky – there are a lot of portraits of cows and I love the light fittings made out of barrels and the cowhide-lined booths. The staff are friendly and attentive and the atmosphere convivial.

We’re offered the chance to have a starter, but decide to save our appetites for the main course (wisely, as it turns out, as the portions here are positively gargantuan). Very soon, a sizzling joint is brought out from the kitchen and is carved in front of us as we sit there salivating. It’s apparent at a glance that it’s perfectly cooked, succulently rare inside, but not too bloody. It’s accompanied by four light, fluffy Yorkshire puddings, a huge bowl of roast potatoes, diced root vegetables, creamed spinach and two jugs, one containing a rich dark gravy and the other horseradish sauce. Oh yes, and there’s some nice peppery rocket on the side. There are few meals that cannot be enhanced by a liberal sprinkling of rocket.

There is absolutely nothing to fault here – the food is hot, impeccably prepared and absolutely delicious. I’d like to say that we restrain ourselves, but it’s hard when presented with such a feast. We fall upon it like ravenous wolves and, I’m sure, eat more than is strictly good for us, but who can resist such temptation? Not us, for sure.

Nor can we resist the equally scrumptious and generously proportioned pudding, a sharing slab of warm chocolate brownie, crispy on top and fabulously gooey within. This is accompanied by an intensely flavoured vanilla ice cream. Of course, we tell each other as it is placed in front of us, we’ll never be able to finish all of this. And, naturally, we do, every last crumb.

The Sunday dinner here costs £100 for four diners, which is costlier than some other places around Edinburgh, but you cannot argue with the quality of the food or the absolute delight you’ll experience in its consumption. I’ve eaten Sunday dinners all over the city but I can honestly say I haven’t had a better one than this.

5 stars

Philip Caveney

Loudons Cafe & Bakery

 

03/08/17

Fountainbridge, Edinburgh

Loudons has an enviable reputation around Edinburgh and it’s very easy to see why. From the spacious, scrupulously clean interior to the charming, affable staff and the prompt and efficient service, this place quite simply ticks all the boxes – so when we and our guests decide to step out for a late breakfast, it seems the obvious place to head for. After all, it’s just a quick stroll away. The only slightly strange thing is that we haven’t got around to trying it before now.

We start by ordering coffee and we’re asked would we care to try Ruli Masasa, a new Rwandan blend they’re trialling? Yes, as it happens, we would – and very tasty it proves to be. As we sip, contentedly, we peruse the menu and it quickly becomes clear, that the only major problem is going to be which of the many delights on offer we’re actually going to choose. After some deliberation, Susan orders the American style pancakes, which arrive promptly and prove to be thick and satisfying, layered with bacon and baked banana (shouldn’t work, but trust me, it does!).  The impressive stack of pancakes is topped with maple syrup, icing sugar and cocoa powder. If you have a sweet tooth, this is definitely the one for you.

I’m in the mood for something more savoury so I choose an offering called the ‘Hoots Mon’, which, despite that awful name, is just wonderful. It comprises an English muffin, halved and liberally layered with haggis, black pudding and bacon, then topped with two poached eggs and a tangy tomato ketchup chutney. It is quite simply delightful, the bacon thick and crispy, the eggs poached to perfection, so that when you prod them with a knife, a gloopy yellow yoke gushes over the lower layers. Oh, yes please! Needless to say, I make very short work of eating it.

One of our companions orders French toast, which is served with bacon and maple syrup and looks very nice indeed. The fourth, a person of more modest appetite, plumps for a traditional fresh scone served with butter and jam, and pronounces it excellent. Pretty soon, all four plates are clean and we’re very happy punters.

OK, so maybe Loudons isn’t  the cheapest cafe you’ll find around the city (most dishes are around the £10 mark) but, for a pleasant brunch, you’d be hard put to better it and, since I can’t find a single thing to fault in the order, it must surely receive the maximum number of stars. What about that name, ‘Hoots Mon’? Should I deduct points for that? No, because you could call it ‘desiccated wombat’ and it would still taste incredible. Full marks it is, then.

For those of you contemplating an exhausting day of touring around the many festival venues, this is the logical place to refuel. And for those of you who’ve slept in, I hear they do excellent lunches too.

5 stars

Philip Caveney

Hotel du Vin

31/07/17

Bristo Place, Edinburgh

Edinburgh boasts a wealth of fine dining venues and Hotel du Vin, part of the Malmaison group, has been around since 2006. It also has a more fascinating history than some of the competition. Back in the day it was known as ‘Bedlam,’ the city’s biggest lunatic asylum. (The poet Robert Ferguson was one of its most celebrated inmates.) These days, of course, it’s all a bit more sedate, with a pleasant rustic feel, though that colourful history is commemorated in a private dining room which boasts a spectacular mural featuring two of Edinburgh’s most infamous inhabitants, Burke and Hare.

We first ate at Hotel du Vin back in the day, when we were first discovering the city, but long before we started reviewing our dining experiences. We have family visiting, so we decide to revisit the place, taking advantage of a bookatable deal that offers three courses and a glass of wine for just £20.95 per head.

For starters, Susan and I both opt for the seared Galician octopus, which is a rather splendid affair, succulent fishy tentacles resting on a bed of inky braised lentils with salsa verde. It’s rich and savoury and a great appetiser. There’s also Woodhall’s family black combe air-dried ham (looks fab but doesn’t photograph well) and a watercress and spinach soup, which is served with a poached egg and a dollop of sour cream. All of these are sampled and all are pronounced utterly delicious.

For her main course, Susan tries the Normandy chicken cobb salad, a beautifully arranged dish featuring tangy Roquefort cheese, avocado, tomatoes, brioche croutons, soft boiled eggs and pancetta. It looks and tastes absolutely splendid. I’m in a ‘gromphy’ mood, so I go for the black and blue burger. Now, I can guess what you’re thinking – a burger is a burger is a burger, right? Not so. This one features a succulent 200 gram pattie nestled between a light-as-a-feather black sesame seed brioche. The meat is liberally coated with Roquefort cheese and mushroom ketchup and is accompanied by a cone of crispy, salty french fries. Mmm. Best of all, it comes with crunchy dill pickles on the side (and when one of our guests announces he doesn’t like dill pickles, I’m in there like a shot!). Oh yes, there’s also a grilled Cornish mackerel served with trout roe and Waldorf fregola grossa. Everything is cooked to perfection and nicely presented – there’s really nothing here to find fault with, and trust me I look really hard.

Of course, there must be puddings and three of us cannot resist the description of a treacle tart, served with (how good does this sound?) custard ice cream. Yes please! And very nice it proves to be, thick, not too dry (because we all know that can happen, right?) and accompanied by a scoop of something that tastes very like deep-frozen heaven. The fourth member of our party investigates the peach melba – melt-in-the-mouth poached peaches with fresh raspberries, meringue and (nice touch this) jelly and ice cream! It’s a delight, but hey, it’s not treacle tart and custard ice cream, if you catch my drift.

All-in-all, this is splendid grown-up food, perfectly prepared and served in pleasant and convivial surroundings. The white wine offered is a chardonnay and though this would usually invoke a negative mark, it proves to be perfectly drinkable (though a sauvignon blanc would have been more agreeable to us ABCs).

It’s a tiny niggle. We were very happy with our Hotel du Vin experience and I can’t help feeling that, unless you’re extraordinarily fussy, you’ll enjoy it too. Make sure you pop your head into the Burke and Hare room to check out that artwork – unless of course you’ve actually booked the Burke and Hare room, in which case you can sit there and ogle it to your heart’s content.

4.8 stars

Philip Caveney

 

Dine

29/07/17

Traverse Theatre, Cambridge Street, Edinburgh

We’re meeting up with some old friends and we’ve been meaning to try Dine for a while now, so it seems like the ideal time to give the place a whirl. Since we’re eating fairly early, we have the opportunity to select from the market menu, which comes in at a very reasonable £19.50 for three courses. Michelin-starred chef Stuart Muir claims to have created a series of contemporary twists on classic dishes and our expectations are high.

The room above the Traverse theatre is a delightful setting for a meal: it’s spacious and circular with dark wooden flooring, giving a surprisingly intimate feel; the tables are arranged around a central and remarkably realistic apple tree. The staff are friendly and chatty – attentive without being obtrusive. Drinks are duly ordered and the starters arrive promptly.

I opt for the cured sea trout, which, though not the most photogenic thing on the menu, is really quite delicious, served with pickled green apple, burnt cucumber, yoghurt and dill. Susan has the heritage tomatoes, which are bursting with flavour, nestling on goats cheese, black olive crumb, filo and basil. Our companions go for the smoked Ayrshire ham hock terrine with carrot chutney, pickled heritage carrots, watercress and sourdough. It looks splendid but I’m not offered a taste, no matter how many hints I drop!

The main courses are equally assured. Susan’s Perthshire chicken is agreeably moist and succulent, served with sweetcorn puree, burnt sweetcorn, baby gem and pickled trompettes. I sample the (very alliterative) braised brisket of borders beef (try saying that with a mouthful of garden peas!), served with truffle polenta cake, burnt onion puree and tender steam broccoli. Brisket is notoriously hard to get right, but this is as tender as you’d want, and coated with a sticky, piquant sauce. A slice of this meat nestled on a chunk of polenta cake makes for a very pleasing contrast. Excellent.

Puddings? Well, Susan orders the Blacketyside farm strawberries – these come with mascarpone, meringue, 12-year-old balsamic, basil and a scoop of strawberry sorbet. It’s a pretty spectacular concoction, hitting all the sweet notes in perfect harmony. I go for the selection of British cheese, with crackers and a rich, fruity chutney. Since cutting down on dairy products in my everyday diet, this is a chance to be a bit decadent and the three cheeses I’m served are generously proportioned and lip-smackingly good. (Had I been a bit more organised I’d have made a note of their names, but I was too busy devouring them to take time out to do that, so suffice to say that Dine does excellent cheese.)

This was fine dining prepared to a very high standard, offered at a very reasonable price in a charming location. Any way you look at it, it ticks all the boxes. With the madness of the fringe only days away, make sure you book early to avoid disappointment.

4.6 stars

Philip Caveney

Seasons

Broughton Street, Edinburgh

09/07/17

We’re here because it sounds exciting: we’ve seen Seasons advertised on Facebook and we’re intrigued by what we’ve read. Because there’s no menu here, as such, just a list of locally sourced ingredients, and the choice of a five or seven-course tasting menu. “We ask for you to put your trust in our ethos and our team,” says their  website – and so we do.

We’re eating with friends and, after some discussion, we all agree to go with the seven-course option (we’re afraid of missing something spectacular if we opt for the shorter menu). We eschew the wine pairings: at £45 a head, this seems a bit much for seven (or maybe six, if tripadvisor reviews are accurate) 75ml glasses, however wonderful they are. We share a bottle of sauvignon blanc instead, although several of our refills taste suspiciously like Chardonnay; have they confused our wine with another table’s? Looking back, we realise we have probably drunk a lot more than a bottle between us, so the mix-up is in our favour – and we’re too busy enjoying ourselves to bring it up. Because the food is really rather good.

We start with an amuse bouche, quirkily presented in a ceramic egg. It’s an Arbroath smokie with dill foam, and it packs a lovely punch. It’s a good start, and sets us up nicely for the first ‘proper’ course, which is a spinach and watercress velouté,with a burnt onion oil and crumb. This is absolutely delicious: smooth and velvety and richly flavoured.

The second course consists of langoustines, served with heritage tomatoes and a tomato bisque. The langoustine tails are soft (maybe too soft?) but they taste wonderful, and the tomato bisque is inspired. So far, so good. Next up, it’s braised ox cheeks, with kohlrabi and herbs. This is perhaps the least enjoyable course of the evening: it’s all very well cooked – the tiny sweet mushrooms are a particular delight – but we all agree it lacks seasoning, and it’s a bit big and oafish in the wake of all the finery we’ve tried so far. The fourth course, plaice with samphire and a plaice tortellino, is also under-seasoned. We ask for salt, which is clearly not de rigeur, as we discover when we are given a bowl of unground rock salt and a teaspoon. This feels a bit grudging (obviously we can’t use it), but we find it funny rather than annoying, and just eat the course without. Apart from the lack of sodium, it’s delicious, especially the fish-filled pasta.

By now, we’re starting to think that five courses would have been enough: we’re getting very full. But the fifth course, lamb with peas and feta, is worth finding space for: it’s perfect. The lamb is pink and tender, and the peas enriched by the sharp salty cheese.  Yum. Nevertheless, we’re relieved to see that the sixth course is a light one, a pre-dessert of strawberries, strawberry ice-cream and honeycomb. It’s light and sweet and very fresh. We all relish it.

Pudding is cherries with woodruff sponge, chocolate crumb and a cherry sorbet. It’s a fascinating combination of flavours and textures and, while it doesn’t quite elicit the lip-smacking groans of pleasure that sweet stuff often can, it certainly holds our interest, and we all clear our plates. It’s a clever dessert, and it gives us pause for thought.

Seasons is a lovely place to spend an evening with friends. It’s relaxed and convivial, with plenty of space between courses to digest what’s gone before and catch up with each other’s news. We arrive at seven and don’t leave until after ten-thirty, and we enjoy ourselves immensely. It’s a quirky, original restaurant with real daring and ambition. Well worth a visit. Give it a try!

4.4 stars

Susan Singfield

 

Cucina at G & V Hotel

17/06/17

Royal Mile, Edinburgh

It was my birthday yesterday, but events conspired to prevent us from celebrating together then (Philip was working in Yorkshire while I was at home in Edinburgh). No matter: the date is only a number, and an excuse for a treat. We’re happy to postpone our pleasure for a day.

We’re lured to Cucina with another bookatable deal (seriously, they’re hard to resist), and are soon happily perusing the Star Menu, drinking our complementary Prosecco  (this is becoming a habit; if we’re not careful, we’ll start expecting a free glass of fizz wherever we go). The decor is quirky: all bright colours and modern surfaces, not as in-your-face ‘designer’ as it used to be in its Hotel Missoni days, but definitely drawing on its previous incarnation’s style. And we’re looking forward to some stylish Italian nosh.

We’re not disappointed. The bread arrives promptly, and there’s a choice (we always appreciate a choice). I opt for a pumpkin seed, while Philip takes the sun-dried tomato. Both are lovely: fresh and chewy and distinctly naughty. We accept the offer of a second slice.

For starters, I choose steamed mussels; these are served in a light tomato sauce with garlic and chilli. They’re exactly as they should be: plump and tender and as moreish as can be. Philip’s homemade conchiglie with pork ragu is also very good indeed, the pasta served al dente with just the right amount of bite, and a deliciously herby pork sauce.

Our mains are good too, although maybe not quite as impressive as the starters. Philip’s BBQ chicken comes with roast potato and spinach, and he’s really impressed with the sauce, which is sweet and densely flavoured without being all thick and sticky and overpowering the dish. My cod with Savoy cabbage, chorizo, potatoes and lemon sauce is – in the main – beautifully cooked, although I don’t eat the skin, which is soft and flabby, and not crispy as I’d like. Still, that’s hardly a meal-ruining issue, and the rest of it is mouthwateringly good.

Would we like a pudding? Of course we would. At first, I’m disappointed with my tiramisu: it’s a light, delicate frothy thing, served in a cocktail glass, all sweetness and air. I’ve been looking forward to a thick slab of marscapone and soggy sponge, and this just doesn’t tick the boxes in my head. But it tastes divine and, actually, once I’ve eaten a few mouthfuls and got down to the sponge, I’m kind of glad it’s what it is. It’s less ‘gromphy’ for sure, but it’s a better ending to the meal we’ve had. Philip has no such qualms about his pud: it’s ice-cream. Readers of this blog might not be aware that, in some circles, Philip is renowned for being the world’s second best ice-cream eater, and he’s keen to try the liquorice, cocoa and pistachio flavours on offer here. He declares them bowl-lickingly good, although he does manage to refrain from actually demonstrating this.

Our bookatable deal even includes coffee and petit fours. Okay, so the tiny pieces of biscotti we receive are somewhat underwhelming, but we’re more than pleased with what we’ve had. Even with the (extra) bottle of Prosecco we’ve consumed, this all comes in at a very reasonable £88. Not bad at all.

4.4 stars

Susan Singfield

Ricci’s Place

16/06/17

Crossley Street, Halifax

For writerly reasons, I’m in Halifax, a town I honestly don’t think I’ve ever visited  before. I’m staying at the White Swan hotel, so I put out a Facebook call for recommendations for somewhere to eat. Ricci’s Place proves to be one minute’s walk from my hotel, so I can hardly complain that it’s inaccessible. As I walk, I can’t help reflecting that Halifax will be much nicer once it’s finished. At the moment, huge swathes of it seem to be under reconstruction and travelling any distance requires the unwary traveller to side-step cement mixers, road drills and various other items of machinery. Ricci’s Place turns out to be one of those industrial chic establishments, all stripped floorboards and neon signs. It bills itself as a ‘modern kitchen.’ It’s still early so there are only ten or twelve diners in evidence.

For starters, I choose the crispy baby squid, served with rocket, chilli, lemon and alioli. It arrives almost before I finished ordering it, as though the chefs were waiting on starting blocks. For a moment I think that they’ve mistakenly prepared a main course, because this is a very hearty portion indeed, even by my gargantuan standards. I guess the term ‘crunchy’ should have tipped me off  to the fact that the squid would be coated with something, in this case a rather bland breadcrumb affair which unfortunately serves to mask the delicate flavour of the squid itself, but the accompanying salad is nicely spiced with a powerful punch of chilli, while the alioli is very garlicky indeed and makes me fear for the olfactory safety of the schoolchildren I shall be talking with tomorrow.

For the main course, I opt for ‘lasagna with a difference,’ mostly because I’m intrigued by the name. Changing the traditional recipe? Look what happened to Jamie Oliver when he dared to tweak the ingredients for spaghetti bolognese! There were riots in the streets! There were moves to have his head served on a plate! Clearly, Ricci (if he even exists) has no reservations whatsoever about playing fast and loose with tradition. This lasagna is made with wild boar and has an intense gamey flavour. It’s layered with buffalo mozzarella, duck eggs, speck (whatever the hell that is) and San Marzano tomatoes. It’s not exactly the handsomest meal you’ve ever seen but I have to say, it’s very satisfying indeed, particularly when you have a side order of hand cut chips to mop up that spectacularly herby sauce.

Again, the hefty portion size means I struggle to finish and though the sweets sound enticing, I am sadly quite beyond sampling them, so I head out into the half-finished streets and make the long, arduous trek back to my hotel.

So, a reasonably decent starter and a very satisfying main course. If you should happen to find  yourself in Halifax, for whatever reason, (perhaps you live there!) this is a decent dining experience – something to take your mind off all that building work.

3.8 stars

Philip Caveney