Food

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

Oban Seafood Hut (The Green Shack)

08/09/24

Calmac Pier, Oban

We’ve hired a motor home for a few days. Yesterday, once we’d collected the all-mod-cons Fiat Ducato from Roadsurfer’s depot, we made our way to Tyndrum and enjoyed a tranquil sunny evening, walking in the woods and relaxing outside the van with our (alcohol-free) wine and beer.

Today, we’ve come to Oban. It’s not quite as warm as yesterday, but the sun is still shining and we’re determined to spend some time on the beach at Ganavan Sands. We take a long walk and paddle in the sea – and so of course work up an appetite.

No worries: one of the main reasons we’ve come here is to sample the shellfish from the famous Oban Seafood Hut, more commonly known as The Green Shack – a favourite of the Hairy Bikers, apparently. A woman at our gym waxed lyrical about this little place, and we’re keen to try it for ourselves.

The shack is busy: customers are milling about and mussels are cooking on a gas stove at the front. We’re more than ready for this. But we have to hold our horses because there’s a ‘cash only’ sign and we don’t have any. Off we go to find an ATM…

On our return, we order the ‘Grand Platter for Two’ – which costs £45 – take a ticket and wait for it to be brought to us. Most punters seem to be eating their food from trays, standing or sitting under the adjacent awning. But we’ve got a little home on wheels, so we’re going to eat ours in comfort. We get it wrapped, pop it in the van’s fridge and then drive to tonight’s campsite – a loch-side spot at Creagan Station.

Sadly, there are too many midges for us to eat outside, but no matter: the van has a dinette. We prepare some salad, cut some olive bread and open up our fishy feast.

It’s vast. There’s a whole lobster, already opened and dressed, so there’s no need to crack that tricky carapace. There are crab claws (again pre-prepared), scallops, squid rings, langoustines, prawns, crab-sticks, a smoked salmon fillet, some pieces of sweet herring and lots and lots of mussels. There are also two sauces: a Marie Rose and a sweet chilli.

Everything is delicious – top-quality produce, perfectly prepared. The scallops and crab claws are probably my favourites, but I can’t fault any of it. And it’s such a generous portion! Neither of us has a small appetite, but we can’t eat more than half of this tonight.

It’s not an issue. Did I mention we’re in a camper van and we’ve got a fridge?

Tomorrow, we’ll have a prawn and mussel salad for lunch (with a few spicy crisps on the side); for dinner, we’ll have couscous in a tomato and vegetable sauce with a piece of smoked salmon on top. Not a morsel will go to waste.

Owner John Ogden and his staff clearly deserve their accolades. This simple food is simply wonderful.

5 stars

Susan Singfield

Grazing by Mark Greenaway – Market Menu

03/08/24

Princes Street, Edinburgh

Ten years ago, we were living in Manchester. We came up to Edinburgh that August for two reasons: to visit the Fringe and to get married. We celebrated our ultra low-key wedding (registry office, no guests, strangers as witnesses) with a delicious meal at Mark Greenaway’s Bistro in Stockbridge. 

Although that particular venue hasn’t lasted as long as the marriage, Greenaway is still a big part of Edinburgh’s culinary scene, and Grazing – located on the ground floor of the Caledonian hotel on Princes Street – is a firm favourite of ours. 

So it makes sense to celebrate our tin wedding anniversary here. There’s a new five-course ‘market menu’ that we’re keen to try – and it doesn’t disappoint. 

We start with three ‘snacks’: a little cracker with burrata and caramelised mustard seeds, some beef tartare and the cutest mini baked potato, with tuna tartare and lime mayo. These are an absolute pleasure to eat, the potato in particular bringing smiles to our faces. 

Next up, it’s rabbit paté en croute, a pastry frame containing layers of black pudding and spiced apple chutney as well as the meat. I’m not sure I’m going to like this; I haven’t eaten rabbit very often and I remember it as very strong and gamey. But this incarnation is delicate and light, and the gooseberry chutney on the side is a joy.

The main course is roast Perthshire duck breast, served with a morell mushroom tart and asparagus. Again, this is a revelation: I’m not usually keen on duck, but this is delicious – and that mushroom tart is bursting with flavour.

A pre-dessert of lemon curd cream proves a hit: there’s ice cream and chantilly, both bold with lemon – and the basil meringue complements it well. 

The only disappointment of the evening is the strawberry parfait, which is nice enough but too similar in concept to the pre-dessert (cold creamy stuff, room-temperature creamy stuff and some fruit) and not quite as tasty. 

But it doesn’t matter, because we’ve already taken the obvious decision to order an extra sweet to share. Not because we need it, but because Greenaway’s sticky toffee pudding soufflé is a thing of legend, an easy winner for our hypothetical Off Menu dream dessert. And it’s every bit as good as always: date-y and intense, rich but not heavy, quite the nicest thing you’ll ever eat. 

A couple of ‘Happy Anniversary’ petit fours round off the evening nicely, and we happily clink our glasses of Appletise in celebration of a decade well spent.

4.6 stars

Susan Singfield

Da Steak Hoose

02/07/24

Mounthooly Street, Lerwick, Shetland

We’re in Shetland for an author visit and until today the weather has been relentlessly dreich. This afternoon though, after the book event, the clouds disappear so we visit St Ninian’s Isle. After a long hike, we find ourselves in the mood for a slap-up meal. We can hardly fail to notice Da Steak Hoose, which literally adjoins the charming Airbnb where we’re staying.

First impressions aren’t promising. From the outside the place looks unprepossessing, almost forbidding, with no way of seeing what actually lies behind those blacked-out windows, and we start to wonder if it’s still doing business. But then we notice a sheet of faded paper in the window announcing that the establishment won a ‘Best Scottish Steakhouse Award’ in 2023 and so we make the (one minute) journey and head upstairs to the restaurant.

It quickly becomes clear that those first impressions were deceptive. There’s a large, roomy dining area, already half full of cheerful, friendly customers. The staff are charming and we’re soon sipping drinks and perusing the menu. We note that other diners are happily tucking in to generously-sized starters, which look enticing, but we resolve to cut straight to the main course and leave some room for pudding.

I order the rib-eye steak with a pepper corn sauce, and Susan opts for the sirloin. Soon enough, the meals arrive and we don’t require any urging to get stuck in. The medium-rare steaks are succulent, easy to slice and gloriously juicy. They are accompanied by baskets of chips, which are amongst the best I’ve eaten, with dry crispy exteriors and a soft floury centre: exactly what fried potatoes ought to be but so often aren’t. There’s a little green salad, a slice of intensely flavoured sweet tomato and some crispy onion rings. It’s all handsomely presented and it goes down a treat.

There’s a choice of just four puddings so we decide to share two of them. There’s a sticky toffee pudding, which is soft and scrumptious and full of dates, served with a scoop of vanilla ice cream and a fresh strawberry. It’s nicely judged, sweet but not too sweet. The chocolate flowerpot brownie is also a delight, the chunk of brownie gooey and indulgent, the flowerpot even more so, the chocolate shell stuffed with a thick chocolate mousse, the whole thing decorated with raspberries, chocolate crumb and edible flowers. It tastes every bit as delicious as it looks.

So, should you ever make it out to Shetland – and there are plenty of reasons why you should – Da Steak Hoose should be on every carnivore’s bucket list.

4.2 stars

Philip Caveney

Heron

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

TATTU

23/05/24

West Register Street, Edinburgh

It turns out that Rishi Sunak isn’t the only person getting wet…

In Edinburgh it’s been raining without pause for 48 hours, which partially explains why we arrive at TATTU looking like we’ve swum there fully clothed. We take refuge in the low-lit restaurant, underneath a ceiling that is packed with (fake, obvs) cherry blossoms and we peruse the menu. In recent years, traditional Chinese restaurants have struggled to survive amidst the plethora of Japanese and Korean venues that seem to be opening on British cities on an almost daily basis. TATTU advertises itself as a venue that contrasts traditional Chinese interior design with ‘forward thinking contemporary Chinese and Asian cuisine.’ We opt for the ‘Taste of TATTU‘ menu which offers two courses at £28.50 and three for £33.50, but of course diners can choose to eat al a carte.

First up there’s a plate of Wild Mushroom Spring Rolls, which are intensely flavoured and accompanied by a truffle sour cream dip into which said rolls can be dipped. They are quite delicious as is the serving of Sugar Salt Crispy Squid. Though deep fried, it’s skilfully done, the little chunks of seafood dry and crunchy, peppered with green chilli, pomegranate and mint. This is insanely moreish and though I keep telling myself to leave some space for the main course, I am unable to resist hoovering up every last scrap.

For my main meal, I’ve opted for the Wok Fired Angry Bird, which is, I suppose, the most traditional dish of the evening, deliciously sweet yet with a tantalising flash of heat in the sticky sauce. The chunks of chicken are liberally layered with roasted chilli peppers, cashew nuts and sesame honey soy. Susan samples the Sea Bass Chinese Curry, which just might be the stand-out dish of the evening, the large chunks of fish perfectly cooked with a crispy skin and softly flaking interior, nestled in a smooth curry sauce with lemongrass, kaffir lime leaf and pak choi.

Puddings can be a let-down in many Chinese restaurants – though I still harbour fond memories of the banana fritters I used to enjoy in my childhood, drizzled with ample dollops of warm golden syrup. There are just two desserts available on this menu, so we decide to sample them both and – as ever – we share them.

The Asian Pear Sticky Toffee Pudding offers a clever fusion of that most traditional of British puds with something more exotic in which the flavour of almonds, vanilla and cinnamon cut through. Yum! The Cherry Blossom is a bit of a show stopper, a bowl of cherry mousse covered with chocolate ‘earth’ from which sprouts a tree made from chocolate and candy floss. Our waiter, Mikey, performs a little bit of theatre with a jug coaxing forth clouds of dry ice which drift enticingly around the dish. Happily, the food is as tasty as it looks.

All in all, this is an ambitious concept, skilfully presented and I enjoy every mouthful. I’m aware as I gaze mournfully out of the window, that the rain has not eased off one iota since we arrived, so there’s the prospect of a damp, homeward trudge ahead of us, but TATTU manages to send me on my way feeling well satisfied.

4.2 stars

Philip Caveney