Food

Henderson’s

10/11/23

Barclay Place, Edinburgh

Some friends are up in Edinburgh for the weekend, so we arrange to meet at Henderson’s for a meal and a catch-up. The Henderson name is an Edinburgh institution: Janet opened the city’s first vegetarian restaurant way back in 1962. Sadly, the original venue closed in 2020 (due to the pandemic), but her grandson, Barrie, has since picked up the family (carrot?) baton, taking his turn to encourage the city’s residents to ‘Eat Better, Live Better’.

Philip chooses the vegan king oyster mushroom scallops for his starter, which are served with a cauliflower puree, samphire and seaweed flakes. It’s an impressive opening: the fungi’s texture and shape perfectly mimicking their seafood equivalent, and these are expertly cooked. One of our friends opts for gnocchi, with carrot purée, nasturtium pistou, toasted pumpkin seeds and almond parmesan crumb. He says it’s delicious.

Our other friend and I decide to eschew starters in favour of ‘nibbles’, reasoning that we don’t want to be too full to enjoy our mains. This is a mistake. Both her preserved lemon hummus and my butterbean, confit garlic and rosemary pate are very tasty and well-made, but they’re robust, generously-portioned and served with sourdough. We should probably have stuck with olives!

For our mains, three of us opt for the beetroot and black bean burger on a bouncy, homemade brioche bun. There’s also an onion ring, some caramelised onion and, because none of us is vegan, an extra layer of smoky cheddar. The burger comes with a side of skin-on chips, and a rather wonderful stout mayo. Philip – ever the outlier – has the beet bourguignon pie, which, despite its inelegant appearance, turns out to be the standout dish of the evening. Nestled beneath a flaky, golden pastry top is a rich, slow-cooked beetroot concoction, which he devours with gusto.

For pudding, our friends share a warm spiced fruit cobbler with homemade vanilla ice cream, while Philip and I go halvies on a slice of vegan biscoff cheesecake and a baked Alaska with banana ice cream and salted caramel topping. While Philip prefers the cheesecake (he likes its silky texture and the fact it’s not too sweet), I think the baked Alaska has the edge, precisely because it is so intensely sugary.

It’s great to spend time with our friends in these convivial surroundings. Throw in a couple of mocktails (I highly recommend the Noscow Mule) and you’ve got yourself a delightful evening.

4.1 stars

Susan SIngfield

Bryn Williams at Porth Eirias

20/10/23

Promenade, Colwyn Bay

We are in North Wales visiting Susan’s mum and the weather is frankly horrible. All thoughts of a pleasant stroll along the sea front are promptly vanquished by the distinct possibility of being washed away by the foaming grey breakers crashing over the barriers as we pull into the Porth Eirias car park. We opt to watch the sea from behind the safety of the massive picture windows in Bryn Williams’ excellent restaurant.

For my starter, I choose salt and pepper squid, which is served with spring onion, mint and a swirl of tangy lime mayonnaise. The squid is moist and gratifying, with the finest dusting of crispy batter. It’s faultless – and so are Susan’s roasted prawns. There are five of them, plump and juicy, and they come with chilli butter and a bowl of Bloody Mary sauce. Yum.

When the weather is foul, is there anything more gratifying than a fish pie? At Bryn Williams, the dish comes as a sharing platter for two, a hearty creation featuring chunks of cod and salmon, nestling under mounds of creamy mashed potato, the top nicely crisped in a hot oven. It’s piping hot and utterly satisfying. Brenda has opted for stone bass served with tender-stem broccoli, a perfectly cooked poached egg in breadcrumbs and chicken beurre blanc. She pronounces it ‘superb’ – the fish skin is beautifully crisp, and the egg yolk an enticing rich orange.

Lately, puddings seem to be the weak link in many restaurants, but not so here. Susan and Brenda both go for the Porth Eirias Baked Alaska, which is the standout of the day – sweet and succulent; chewy and crisp – while I enjoy the treacle tart, which again is a fine example of its kind, enhanced with a swirl of intensely flavoured orange jus and a scoop of vanilla ice cream.

All in all, this is a note-perfect meal, vivid and vibrant enough to make up for the miserable weather conditions. Even our scramble to the car is a bit dicy as we are obliged to time our dash between incoming waves, but the impeccable standard of the food makes it well worth the effort.

5 stars

Philip Caveney

Don@Tokyo

15/10/23

Lothian Road, Edinburgh

It‘s not every day that a restaurant opens at the end of your street, but in the case of Don@Tokyo, that’s exactly what’s happened – and we couldn’t be happier about it.

When we first moved to Edinburgh eight years ago, the building that now houses the venue was a TSB bank. It closed in 2019 and, though there were mutterings about turning it into a wine bar, the arrival of COVID promptly finished off that idea. The place stood empty for years and quickly became virtually derelict and covered in graffiti, a real eyesore.

So when legions of workers appeared earlier this year and started to gut the place, working around the clock to get the job done, we were understandably delighted. In what seems an improbably brief space of time, the interior has been repurposed, refitted and redecorated and we’ve watched entranced as Don@Toyko has risen from the ashes. It’s now a bright, spacious, bustling Japanese restaurant with an eye-catching video display in the foyer, some quirky red figurines and even a semi-private dining room for larger parties. Best of all, they’ve preserved the beautiful old Victorian mosaic over the doorway that announces ‘Thrift is Blessing’.

We take our seats and somebody brings us the menu, a tablet with images of the various dishes on it and we tap through, wondering why there are so few mains to choose from. Then our waiter realises that there’s a glitch and that not all the meals are showing. He brings us a replacement and there’s a lot more there than we first thought. (Say what you like about ink and paper, you never have to turn it off and turn it on again.)

We decide to share some rainbow sushi: exquisite parcels of sticky rice featuring salmon, tuna and prawn – and some california rolls with crab, cucumber and avocado. Both are delicious, particularly when eaten with slices of the pickled ginger that accompanies them. 

We also order some soft shell crab. This is a tempura with not a hint of grease. The batter is as light as anything and the flesh beneath melt-in-the-mouth tender.

Best of all is the main course we share, a gyudon, slices of beef and egg on a bed of rice. It may not be the most picturesque item on the menu, but it’s rich and nourishing and we finish every last morsel.

From the drinks menu we choose a couple of cold teas, one with mango, the other with grapefruit. I’ve never been a big fan of tea but these sweet beverages work brilliantly with the food, the citrusy tang cutting through those savoury flavours and gooey textures.

A word of warning. The service here is really swift and we make the mistake of ordering everything up front, so it all arrives together. While this would clearly suit larger parties of people who like to mix and match their dishes, it’s less successful for two people seeking a quiet dinner. Next time, we’ll choose a dish, eat it and then order the next. What’s more, we’re so full towards the end, we ask to take half of the California rolls away with us, which proves to be no problem. They are transferred into a delightful little presentation box, ready for a delicious lunch the following day.

It’s early days for Din@Tokyo, with the staff clearly still getting the measure of the place, but on the basis of our first foray, it makes a welcome addition to the local eating scene. I’m sure we’ll be back for more before very much longer.

4 stars

Philip Caveney

Ka Pao

01/10/23

St James Quarter, Edinburgh

We’ve been looking forward to this evening. Not only are we catching up with friends we haven’t seen in waaaay too long, we’re also – on their recommendation – visiting Ka Pao, a new Scottish/Southeast Asian fusion restaurant in the swish St James Quarter. The menu looks exciting!

It doesn’t disappoint.

The venue earns its first plus-point by presenting us with two bottles of chilled tap water as standard – one still, one sparkling. I like this new trend and drink a lot (maybe too much) of the fizzy one.

There’s a set menu for four or more people, but not everyone in our party fancies it, so we go à la carte. All dishes are for sharing we’re told, and are encouraged to order three or four each: a snack, a starter, a main and a side. Thank goodness we stick to three – it’s still too much. But that’s my only gripe.

This is lovely food: fresh, distinctive and perfectly cooked. For snacks, we sample the tomato and aubergine dip with pork skins, the pork and bone marrow sausage and the arbroath smokie miang. The pork skins are amazing – puffed up like poppadoms (or like yak chews, according to our dog-owning friends). The sausage is also delicious, just bursting with flavour, but the arbroath smokie is the most interesting. It comes mashed with peanuts and galangel, and we’re instructed to wrap a spoonful in a spinach leaf. It’s sweet at first, then spicy, then finally fishy and smoky. We decide we like it.

Our starters are corn ribs with salted coconut, shrimp and lime, and crispy pork belly. Three of us have ordered the corn but two portions would suffice. Not that we’re complaining: these are easily the standout of the evening, deceptively simple, crisp and utterly delectable. We spend some time looking for recipes when we get home.

For mains, we have the green curry of lamb shoulder (which comes with broad beans, peas and banana chilli), the chicken leg massaman curry (with ratte potato, smoked grape and peanut) and the chuu chee curry of courgette (with peas and ramiro pepper), with a side of stir-fried savoy cabbage and a couple of portions of jasmine rice. The chicken curry is very good, although one of our friends finds it too sweet for her palate. The lamb is particularly tasty, a fiery delight, the chunks of meat slow cooked until they’re melt-in-the-mouth tender.

We all profess to be full, but we still say yes to pudding, sharing a couple of portions of almond and cardamom sponge with pineapple and coriander curd (wow!) and a serving of mango and calmansi soft-serve, a kulfi-like confection that offers a citrus-fresh contrast to the sweetness of the pudding.

Like the comic-book sound effect its name evokes, Ka Pao is bold, punchy and memorable – and we’ll certainly be back for more.

4.7 stars

Susan Singfield

Söderberg Pavilion Café

29/06/23

Lister Square, Quartermile, Edinburgh

Söderberg is a bit of an Edinburgh institution: there are seven of the popular Swedish cafés dotted around the city, so it’s unusual to go for a walk without passing at least one. Nonetheless, we’ve never eaten there until today. The closest we’ve come was during the pandemic, in that weird post-lockdown period, when restrictions were slowly being loosened but we still weren’t allowed to sit indoors. During that time, my parents came up for a visit, and – being classed as vulnerable and thus wanting to avoid unnecessary risk – booked themselves into an Airbnb rather than staying at ours as they usually would. Their holiday flat was on the Quartermile so, every evening, we’d sit outside this Lister Square branch for a cup of tea or a glass of wine, shivering but glad to be together, glad to be out in the world again.

The gym we used to go to almost every day is directly opposite that same branch of Söderberg, but our pandemic pause turned into a three-year gap. Six weeks ago, we decided to rejoin, and so we find ourselves once again working up a daily sweat on the cross-trainers or exercise bikes, gazing out of the window at the people sitting in the sunshine, enjoying their coffee. We resolve to treat ourselves to a well-earned brunch one day.

And today seems like the right occasion. The sky is blue, the air is warm and, most importantly, I’m off work this afternoon, so we have time to dally. What’s more, we’ve worked up quite an appetite over the past hour! We request an outdoor table and, once seated, scan the short menu and choose quickly.

We both want a freshly squeezed fruit juice. Philip opts for a simple apple, while I have the fancier-sounding carrot, apple and ginger, which is pleasingly tangy. They’re both just as lovely and refreshing as you’d expect a decent glass of juice to be.

My brunch is Ägg – two eggs baked in a stone oven, served with sourdough and rocket. I add avocado, spinach and pesto, and I’m glad I do, as the boldly-flavoured walnut and basil pesto really elevates the dish. Philip has the Varm getost, an open sourdough sandwich featuring goat’s cheese, walnut, pine nuts and rocket. The goat’s cheese, he says, is delicious.

Sitting outside, lingering over a meal, feels every bit as indulgent as we imagined. In all honesty, however, we’re both a little disappointed by the meagreness of the portions. It’s not that we want anything too over-facing mid-morning, but a single, thin-cut slice of bread just feels a bit stingy. We’re not super-impressed by the mounds of undressed leaves on our plates either. An extra slice of bread and a decent salad dressing would have made this experience a lot more satisfying.

3 stars

Susan Singfield

Timberyard

18/06/23

Lady Lawson Street, Edinburgh

We’ve lived in Edinburgh for seven years now and we’ve always been aware of this restaurant, just around the corner from where we live, but – for one reason or another – we’ve never eaten here. But our tradition of indulging in fine dining to celebrate Susan’s birthday, plus the fact that Timberyard has recently been awarded a Michelin star, suggest that now is a good time to give it a whirl.

So here we finally are, settling down at a table in the spacious, warehouse-like interior, while outside the long run of hot weather is about to to be interrupted by heavy rain. But in this glorious candle-lit interior, the rain comes and goes without us even noticing.

Firstly, a word about water. Most restaurants try to sell you bottles of the stuff (a practice I’ve long disapproved of for environmental reasons) but at Timberyard, our choice of still or fizzy water comes as standard and our glasses are regularly topped up by the attentive staff – an idea I’m in favour of seeing elsewhere.

Since we’re currently on the wagon, we both decide to try one of their homemade soft drinks. I sample the bramble & lemon seltzer, which is zingy and refreshing, while Susan opts for jam on toast, a drink that somehow – don’t ask me how – really does invoke those flavours. I mean, I understand how they might accomplish the ‘jam’ bit, but how do you make a soft drink taste of toast?

We’ve chosen the eight-course tasting menu, which sounds prodigious, but is carefully presented in perfectly-sized offerings to ensure that the diner is never overwhelmed. That said, we decide to skip the option of adding a cheese course. Even we have limits!

We begin with ‘snacks’ – bread and cultured butter with pickles and ferments, raw beef on toast with yellow beans and cod’s roe and a little bowl of beach rose and tomato broth. These offerings set the tone for the evening, a series of intense flavours, each one different to the last and, frankly, quite unlike anything I’ve eaten elsewhere. The much-lamented Edinburgh Food Studio is probably the venue that comes closest in recent memory.

Timberyard’s efficient staff come and go bearing various dishes, each one a tiny revelation. There’s purple sword celtuce with nasturtium, conifer and smoked scallop roe; al denté green asparagus featuring coddled egg, pancetta, comte and hazelnut; veal sweetbreads, rich and succulent with pheasant back mushroom, broad beans and Scot’s lovage; a meltingly tender slice of turbot with pea flowers, sea aster, pil-pil and lobster butter; and chunks of deliciously rare Kerry beef with farm greens and anchovy. To say it’s all delicious would be something of an understatement.

And then of course, there are a couple of puddings. There’s elderflower – a frozen granita served with creme fraiche ice-cream, wonderfully refreshing after the richness of the beef – and there’s woodruff, an edible wildflower with hints of vanilla, cardamom and cinnamon, with a fluffy honey-rich exterior and a salty, bitter chocolate filling that lingers on the palette, ending the experience on a high note.

I can’t really explain why it’s taken us so long to try the Timberyard experience, but I’m glad we finally have. This is challenging food (in the very best sense of the word): an exquisite, constantly surprising selection of dishes that focus on local and seasonal ingredients. I can see exactly how the place caught the eye of the Michelin judges.

One thing’s for sure. We won’t be leaving it so long before we return.

5 stars

Philip Caveney

Gurkha

12/06/23

Broughham Place, Edinburgh

Traditional curry houses have been going through turbulent times lately, with many customers preferring to turn their attention to Indian street food-style cafes. Local favourite The Bombay Bicycle Club is now under new ownership as Gurkha, which offers Indian and Nepalese cuisine. (A bit further down Brougham Street, The Nilgiri Spice is in the early stages of a similar transformation.)

We’ve actually opted to visit on opening night, lured in by a money-off voucher, and – as it’s the hottest day in Edinburgh so far this year – we’re half expecting the place to be quiet.

But there’s a lively vibe when we arrive, with balloons festooning the entrance and a veritable crowd inside, celebrating the occasion. As we’re currently having a break from the booze, we’re delighted to note that in addition to alcohol free beer, Gurkha also offers zero percent wine in white, red and even rosé, which is something we haven’t found on any other menus in the city, so we promptly order a drink each.

We share a mixed starter, comprising chicken tikka, lamb tikka, seekh kebab and (best of all) a couple of crispy, chewy king prawns. The dish is perfectly cooked, the flavours and aromas inviting and the dish is nicely presented with generous swirls of different sauces in which the meat can be dipped. It’s a great start to the meal and proves to be the highlight.

For mains, we’ve chosen a lamb tikka saslik and a chicken makhani, which again are nicely done, though perhaps lacking the impressive presentation of that starter – though to be fair, it’s hard to know how you might make a chicken makhani (a big dollop of brown sludge) look beautiful. It tastes good and that’s the main thing, right?

To accompany the dish there’s a lovely peshwari naan, thin and crispy, with a delicious mango and coconut filling – and a bowl of coconut and pineapple rice, which, on reflection, may be a tad too sweet when coupled with the naan. But that’s on us for not thinking it through, and I should add that not one single grain remains after we’ve applied ourselves to the task.

And that’s us done, far too full to think about a pudding and happy to slip out to enjoy the rest of a sunny afternoon in Edinburgh, leaving the celebration in full swing. Here’s wishing Gurkha a happy and prosperous future.

4 stars

Philip Caveney

Haar Restaurant and Rooms

27/05/23

Golf Place, St Andrews

We’ve eaten at Dean Banks’ Edinburgh venues several times – at The Pompadour and, more recently, at his seafood-themed bistro, Dulse. In each case, the food has been outstanding. We’ve heard good things about his signature restaurant in St Andrews, Haar, and resolve to try it out. A sunny bank holiday offers the ideal opportunity and, when we discover that we can also stay on the premises, it feels like a no-brainer. It’s not what you’d call a budget stay but, in lieu of a summer holiday, we feel we’ve earned the right to spoil ourselves.

We book the room at the very top of the building which, though not the most luxurious place we’ve stayed in, offers an enticing view of West Sands beach at the top of the road (with a handy telescope should we want a closer look). The room is clean, comfortable and quiet, though the absence of a wardrobe is puzzling. The bathroom is tiny but has a luxurious deluge shower. Customers with mobility and access issues should note that getting to the room does involve climbing several flights of stairs.

At 7.30pm, we head downstairs to dine and are initially worried that we seem to be the only people in the room, but that situation is very short-lived. Soon, the place is full and buzzing with conversation.

The five-course tasting menu looks pretty substantial, so we’re somewhat nonplussed by the suggestion that we might like to augment it with various other courses (at an additional cost) so, after brief consideration, we decide to stick with the basic menu – though ‘basic’ hardly covers the series of culinary delights we sample tonight.

We begin with the rather unprepossessingly titled ‘snacks’, for which we are invited to sit at the Chef’s Table, a kind of breakfast bar arrangement, where the chef creates three amuse bouche-style offerings, talking us through the process as he puts the dishes together. This is a nice theatrical touch that I’ve not experienced before.

First up there’s a very individualistic approach to trout pastrami, which resembles a tiny ice cream cone, small enough to eat in a single bite, but absolutely brimming with flavour. Next up, there’s an oyster apiece, drizzled with sea buckthorn (which grows wild along this part of the Scottish coast) and sprinkled with lime and fresh rhubarb. The oysters are presented in a dish of smoking dry ice, another theatrical flourish, and they are delicious – fresh and zingy. Finally, we return to our table to sample Dean Banks’ take on an Arbroath smokie, served in a round tin and accompanied by a slice of crisp bread. This is smoked fish dialled up to 11, and we both approve.

Now there’s a Dean Banks speciality: a mini cornbread loaf accompanied by two types of butter, one salted and the other infused with miso – the only tough choice here is which butter you’re going to have, but we both prefer the miso.

The next course is east coast crab served with pea and Thai broth, a meal so light and ethereal that we can almost inhale it. Can we resist dunking a slice of cornbread into that broth? No, we cannot! And why should we? Cornbread is made for dunking, right?

The seafood theme continues with a slice of perfectly cooked halibut, melt-in-the-mouth tender at its flaky heart with seared crispy edges. This is presented with a spear of crispy asparagus coated with mouthwatering black garlic and a pool of vibrant green sauce.

Some meat perhaps? How about a succulent chunk of salt baked duck, resplendent in a five-spice sauce and glaze? Out it comes and down it goes, the medium rare flesh tender enough to slice with an ordinary table knife.

We’re expecting the pudding next, but there’s a late addition to the menu in the form of a pre-dessert, a tasty little enticement of rhubarb sorbet and yoghurt.

And just when you’re thinking, ‘I won’t have room for the actual pud,’ it arrives and it’s Nana’s banoffee, an exquisite banana parfait that looks pretty enough to frame – but is far too delicious to do that with. It’s presented with a scoop of toffee ice cream, a chocolate rum ball (which bursts in the mouth like a flavour explosion), a chunk of fresh caramelised banana and an ingenious sugar tuille, in the shape of dulse seaweed. We often comment that it’s the pudding that lets down a great menu, but this is certainly not the case here.

And of course, this isn’t the end of the experience. The following morning, after a long bracing walk on West Sands, we’re ready for breakfast. This is quietly impressive and, as we’ve come to expect, faultlessly executed. I opt for the Scottish breakfast with poached eggs, which is perfectly done and features what might be the best bacon I’ve ever tasted – a thick crispy slab of meat with a wonderful smoked flavour. Susan’s East Neuk platter features a whole array of different foodstuffs, incorporating cured meats, fresh fruit, jam, yoghurt and a couple of fruit scones.

There’s no doubt that Banks’s culinary creations are up there with the very best. Lovers of fine dining will find plenty to enjoy at Haar.

4.8 stars

Philip Caveney

Bar + Block Steakhouse

17/05/23

Princes Street, Edinburgh

Whitbread’s Bar + Block is the kind of restaurant that those of us with foodie pretensions like to dismiss: it’s a chain; it’s attached to a Premier Inn. The food is bound to be pre-packaged, we tell ourselves; it’s surely a soulless place. But even we have to admit that this Edinburgh branch, situated on Princes Street with its iconic view of the castle, is very nicely styled. It looks inviting. And, after a morning of shopping (which is absolutely our least favourite kind of morning), we find ourselves drawn to the lunch and early dinner menu advertised in the window. Three courses for £14.95? It’s hard to resist.

The menu is short, but reads well. Philip starts with Korean chicken wings, which are charcoal cooked and generously flavoured with barbecue sauce and chilli. I have the tomato bruschetta, which isn’t perhaps the most exciting choice, but I just love tomatoes, and I like the sound of the the stone-baked flatbread they come on. As expected, it tastes good, enhanced by a sweet balsamic-heavy dressing.

For his main, Philip chooses the steak sandwich with fries. This looks really attractive, and he’s pleasantly surprised by the quality of the meat, which surpasses his expectations for this price point. It’s served on more of that stone-baked flatbread, and garnished with cheese, onions, tomato and rocket. The chips aren’t great – just frozen skinny fries – but they’re piping hot, which makes them edible at least. I have the seabass fillet, which comes with a delicious Greek salad and – yes, you’ve guessed it – a piece of stone-baked flatbread. Apart from the over-reliance on that particular carb, this is a pleasant dish: the fish is well-cooked, the skin pleasingly crispy, and the salad is generously strewn with feta cheese.

Do we have room for pudding? You bet we do. I have the Eton Mess sundae, a pleasing concoction of berries, ice cream, cream and meringue, while Philip opts for a triple chocolate brownie, served warm with vanilla ice cream. Both slip down far too easily.

Add in a couple of alcohol-free drinks (a Peroni and a Rekorderlig fruit cider), and we’re feeling pretty satisfied. Okay, so our assumptions haven’t exactly been disproved: Bar + Block is exactly what we knew it would be. But the service is pleasant, we’ve had a decent lunch, and it hasn’t cost us much. I’m not sure we’ll be in a rush to return, but I’m glad we’ve given it a go.

3 stars

Susan Singfield

Sichuan House

08/05/23

George VI Bridge, Edinburgh

There are all kinds of reasons for deciding to visit an unfamiliar restaurant. It could be a friend’s recommendation; a well-timed discount offer; an enticing smell issuing from an open doorway. In the case of Sichuan House, the main motivator is my eyes. Walking along George IV Bridge to my regular writing haunt, The National Library of Scotland, I keep passing the window of the venue where I can’t fail to notice the crowds of (predominantly Chinese) customers, enthusiastically chowing down on a succession of enticingly vibrant meals. The food looks quite different from the kind of Mandarin cuisine I’m familiar with.

So, after a long and tiring drive from North Wales to Edinburgh, on an evening when neither of us feel like cooking, I suggest we might call in there and try it out. It’s around seven thirty on a bank holiday Monday when we rock up and the place is already buzzing. A charming waiter leads us to a vacant table by the window (as far as we’re aware, you can’t book in advance) and hey presto! We’re the people chowing down as passers-by gaze enviously in.

We start by sharing a plate of pork and chive dumplings, a deceptively simple meal, ten soft parcels stuffed with a delicious savoury filling and served with a bowl of black vinegar, into which said parcels can be dipped. To say that they’re delicious would be something of an understatement. They are among the best I’ve ever tasted, absolutely bursting with flavour.

For the main course, Susan chooses prawns with ginger, and that’s pretty much what arrives – a generous serving of large, juicy prawns in a glutinous savoury sauce, which includes lashings of slow cooked onions and crispy spring onions. As you might expect there’s a rich punch of ginger in there and once again, this is a perfectly executed dish.

The same can be said for my sizzling beef with chilli, tender chunks of meat in a rich sauce which features red and green peppers and again those wonderfully gloopy onions. As you’d expect the course is fiercely spiced, just enough to give that wonderful warmth at the back of the throat (and even to clear the sinuses), but not so severe that the effect becomes too overwhelming.

We also share a portion of egg fried rice and though this is entirely familiar, it’s been expertly prepared, with not a hint of greasiness about it.

Despite being right in the middle of Edinburgh’s tourist route, the food is very reasonably priced. Sichuan House may not be the venue for a lavish, family occasion, but for those seeking authentic Chinese cuisine at great value prices, this is a great place to look for it. We’ll be back – and next time, we’ll make sure we’ve left enough room for more.

4. 4 Stars

Philip Caveney