Heron

Heron

20/06/26

Henderson Street, Leith

Regular readers of B&B will know that it has, for some years now, been our regular custom to celebrate Susan’s birthday with a trip to a high-end restaurant. This practice has recently become more complicated after she was diagnosed with a gluten intolerance. We were surprised to discover that some of the venues we approached this year were adamant that they could not – would not – make any alterations to their hallowed menus.

Happily, Heron assured us that they could easily accommodate such a dietary requirement: they only use limited amounts of gluten anyway, and can always substitute a tasty alternative in those recipes that do feature it. So on a beautiful summer’s evening we make the trip out to Leith Shore to the relaxed, convivial venue that is already one of our favourite places to eat.

We start off with a selection of amuse bouches – complex little creations that virtually explode with a variety of intense flavours. For me, there’s an Isle of White tomato burrata, sea trout with rhubarb, chilli and beetroot and lobster with gooseberry and dill. Instead of burrata, Susan has something made of chickpeas, which is far more elaborate than it sounds. All of the flavour combinations are vibrant and exciting and get our taste buds ready for the dishes to come. 

Bread is not usually something to shout about, but Heron’s seeded loaf served with salted butter and house charcuterie is one of their celebrated standards – and they’ve even made a gluten-free version so Susan doesn’t have to miss out. The trick here is not to devour the whole thing in one go but to eke it out through the following courses so you have something on hand to mop up the variety of sauces that ensue.

Next up there’s a hand-dived Orkney scallop, served with chive, hazelnut and oscietra caviar, salty and crunchy and every bit as tasty as you would expect – and this is followed by what might be the high point of the meal, North Sea squid served with asparagus spears, blackcurrant leaf and walnuts. It’s not just that the mingling flavours in the dish are truly out of this world, there’s also the ingenious way the squid has somehow been made to impersonate tagliatelle. And lest you think that’s it for the fish courses, how about a tender hunk of crisp-skinned sea bream, wallowing in a broth of mussel, whey, lovage, pea and spruce tip? Here it is – and it’s spectacular!

On to the meat courses, starting with a veal sweetbread on a bed of corn, girolle and black truffle. Some diners are put off by the thought of what a sweetbread actually is but set that thought aside and this is very good indeed. Even better is the tender slice of Harthstane’s sika deer, liberally ladled with a sauce comprising beetroot, rose harissa and dukkah (a traditional Egyptian condiment made from toasted nuts, seeds and spices).

At this point, we are offered the possibility of a cheese course, but we’re flagging a bit and want to ensure that we have room for the pudding, so we politely decline and move straight on to ‘buttermilk’ – a description that hardly does justice to a beautifully crafted palate cleanser, comprising lemon, bay and macadamias. It is utterly delicious and, just as I’m thinking that they’ll never top that, ‘strawberry’ arrives: another understated title that cannot begin to describe an exquisite concoction of – well, guess what? – on a bed of pistachio and black cardamom, served with a scoop of sorbet.

We ask for the bill and this arrives in a little wooden box accompanied by three handmade petit fours nestled on a bed of coffee beans, each mouthful more delicious than the last. A sweet, sugary jelly flavoured with sea buckthorn is perhaps the most memorable, but they are all wonderful examples of the confectioner’s art.

Heron is a unique dining establishment that produces some of the finest cuisine I’ve ever tasted. Those who don’t want to go the full tasting menu route, can opt for a simpler three-course affair (let’s face it, no one could eat like this every day) but, for a special occasion, the team here can provide a dining experience that will linger in memory long after the last mouthful has been swallowed. And for those who can no longer enjoy gluten, this is the place to come.

5 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