Browsing Category

restaurant

bistro/ Edinburgh/ restaurant/ review

Edinburgh Restaurant Review: Castle Terrace – truly a stellar dining experience

A dish of spring barley risotto with chicken
Stupendous spring barley risotto with chicken.

One of the great things about living in Edinburgh is that, for a relatively small city, it boasts a fantastic range of eateries, both in terms of cuisine type and level of sophistication. Within a stone’s throw of the Royal Mile and Princes Street it’s possible to feast on excellent yet modestly priced burgers or mezze, as well as indulge in some extremely fine dining. As someone who is obsessive about all things culinary, I appreciate good food whatever the context of its consumption. Yet every now and again it can be a real treat to push the (gravy) boat out with a meal at a gastronomically renowned restaurant.

And so it was a couple of Saturdays ago, when JML invited me to share a 40th birthday present by joining him for lunch at the Michelin-starred Castle Terrace. To be frank, there would have been tears if he hadn’t have done so, such is the reputation of this sister restaurant of Leith’s The Kitchin. Jointly established in 2010 by the vastly experienced Edinburgh-born chef Dominic Jack and his long time culinary pal Tom Kitchin, the quality of the food at Castle Terrace is such it took a mere 15 months for the restaurant to be awarded a Michelin star. So having experienced a superb meal courtesy of The Kitchin late last year, and knowing that both Chefs share an ethos of “from nature to plate”, I have been champing at the bit to sample Jack’s cooking.

Amuse bouche of three canapes
An amazing amuse bouche.

Right from entering Castle Terrace it was apparent that we were in for a classy dining experience. The interior is beautifully designed, without being over stated; the muted burnt-ochre and plum decor giving the place an immediate mellow air. Warmly greeted and immediately seated, it was also obvious that the front of house operation is a well-oiled machine set up to provide exactly the right level of attentiveness. So within just a couple of minutes of stepping through the door, glasses of sparkling water had been poured and we were already perusing the set lunch menu.

Once our order was dispatched to the kitchen, it was only a matter of moments before the culinary concerto commenced. An amuse bouche consisting of a trio of beautifully crafted canapés was so artistic it seemed almost a crime to eat them. However, the fantastically fishy salt cod tortellini, caper-filled mini burger, and liquid-centred hors d’oeuvre that immediately exploded with Caesar salad flavours, were nonetheless consumed with eagerness. A deconstructed take on a cheesy baked potato was to follow – except this was presented layered in an espresso cup and packed with umami flavour. All were extremely clever and perfectly judged to thoroughly whet our appetites for the main event.

Ballotine of ox tongue with beets and balsamic jus
A beautiful ballotine of ox tongue with beetroot & balsamic.

Now it might be pertinent to point out that the menu at Castle Terrace is an accomplished piece of minimalist prose. Each dish is introduced by its main ingredient, followed by a concise description of how this is prepared and the other constituents accompanying it. Thus JML’s starter of “salmon” transpired to be a generously plump and glossy raviolo that concealed a superbly moist morsel of Loch Duart salmon. This was all bathed – by the waiter at the table no less – in refreshingly light consommé that brilliantly combined the piscine and pasta flavours with undertones of lemon, tarragon and cucumber. It was a dish that was both superbly simple and satisfyingly theatrical in equal measure.

My first course of “ox” presented an alluring pink disk of ballotine of Blackford Estate ox tongue surrounded by shards of heritage beetroot and tiny jewels of aged balsamic reduction. It looked like a gastronomic reproduction of an ancient Greek sunburst motif. It tasted heavenly, with the rich gaminess of the tongue being in complete harmony with a light touch of horseradish heat, earthy beet flavours, and a sweet acidic accent provided by the vinegar jus.

Hake fillet with squid, peppers and olives.
Succulent hake on a bed of squid, peppers & olives.

For my main dish I went for fish, or “hake” to be precise. This was a chunky fillet from the North Sea, placed on a bed of sautéed North Sea squid, peppers, black olives and garlic. From the menu’s description, this was to be an uncomplicated plate with “gently cooked” fish. Delivered to our table was something truly memorable. The hake had an incredible succulence and depth of flavour that suggested it had been cooked a la confit. Combined with sweet-savouriness from the peppers and olives, and the subtle seafood overtones contributed by the tender squid, this was a really accomplished and massively enjoyable dish.

Across the table, JML’s modestly described main of “chicken from Burnside Farm served on spring pearl barley risotto” was a feast for the eyes, as well as the mouth. The intensely pea-green barley risotto burst with complex spring-vegetable flavours. The chicken atop this displayed a crisply golden exterior that concealed tender flesh that packed a really meaty, but perfectly judged, punch on reaching the taste buds. Altogether, this was another top-rate plate.

Zesty lemon cheese cake with ginger ice cream.
Zesty lemon cheese cake with ginger ice cream.

Now I don’t know if it was because our first two courses had been so outstanding in terms of their visuals and flavours, but our puddings seemed a little more straightforward by comparison. JML certainly tucked into his creamy, vanilla-infused, caramel crusted crème brûlée with gusto. Equally, I really enjoyed the citrus tang of my lemon cheesecake, together with the ginger kick provided by the accompanying quenelle of ice-cream, which was also another beautifully presented dish.

They were both very nice sweets, but maybe by this point in the meal we had come to expect fireworks. The white desert wines that accompanied our final course were smashing, as were the other glasses of white from France, Spain and New Zealand specifically chosen to match each of our other dishes. All were excellently paired with our food.

In anyone’s terms, our visit to Castle Terrace turned out to be a truly terrific dining experience. But when you consider we were treated to a three course lunch from a Michelin-starred chef, accompanied by matching wines, for less than £55 per diner, what we sampled was incredible.

It most certainly won’t be long before I pay a return visit to the restaurant, maybe this time to sample the more expansive à la carte offering. With a venue that pays so much attention to what they serve, and how they serve it, surely it won’t be too long before Castle Terrace is displaying two Michelin stars above its door.

Food – 9/10
Atmosphere – 8/10
Service – 8.5/10
Value – 9/10

Ambience – Expect a welcoming, high class restaurant ambience.

Castle Terrace Restaurant on Urbanspoon

Square Meal

Birmingham/ restaurant/ review

Birmingham Restaurant Review: A yummy Brummie bistro – The Pickled Piglet

Delicous belly pork with saffron and honey.
Delicous belly pork with saffron and honey.

I’m a bit geographically off piste in terms of my latest restaurant review.  It’s not of an eatery in Edinburgh, nor even one in Glasgow.  For this week, I am dining at a place nearly 250 miles due south of “Auld Reekie”.  And it turns out to be a restaurant I liked very much indeed.   I probably should explain.

The first day of spring has always been memorable for me, not only because it marks the passing of winter, but also because 21st March is my Dad’s birthday.  So to mark his 79th year on planet Earth I thought it appropriate to arrange a wee visit back to Birmingham – the city of my birth – to celebrate this notable event.  I’m sure it’s no surprise to learn that the exact form this celebration took was to take my parents out for very pleasant meal.

Now Birmingham is a very different place from the depressed, and – to be honest – somewhat depressing, metropolis I left in the mid-1980s.  Though the “city of a thousand trades” may have well and truly had the stuffing knocked out of it during the Thatcher era, it has now become a vibrant, cultural hub.  Its centre has witnessed massive regeneration over the last two decades, particularly around its “canal quarter”, as the development of Symphony Hall and Brum’s architecturally impressive Library of Birmingham bear testament.  The waterways that were once at the heart of Birmingham’s industrial revolution are now the focus of a Bohemian collection of cultural and culinary establishments.  And as my Dad was born a stone’s throw from the canal hub of Gas Street Basin, I thought it might be appropriate to find somewhere close by for a relaxed – but good quality – lunch.

Turbot with samphire and cockles.
Fab turbot with samphire and cockles.

A quick bit of searching on the internet and I had made a reservation for Friday lunch at the Pickled Piglet.  Located on Gas Street itself, this bar and bistro’s website promised much of what I look for when I dine out – locally sourced ingredients, and free range, properly matured meat.  “Any chef can dress a plate, but taste is a different game” the restaurant’s website sagely stated.  Occupying a compact, converted warehouse building, the Pickled Piglet’s dining and bar area is located on the upper floor.  It’s bright and airy space which is tastefully furnished, whilst retaining features which nod to the building’s industrial heritage.  Being Friday lunchtime in the centre of a bustling city, I’d expected the restaurant to be full.  Yet even though our reservation was for 1pm, as we were seated it quickly became apparent we were the only diners there.  Had I chosen a dud, I wondered?  Read on, and you will find the opposite to be true.

Chocolate torte with a berry compote.
Choco-berry sumptuousness

The bistro’s brunch menu certainly presented us with a decent amount of choice.  An appetising range of tapas-style small plates were on offer – which could have easily doubled as starters – as well as various meat, cheese and seafood sharing boards.  We decided to dive straight into the mains however, which were simply described and tasty sounding.  My choice of roast turbot, green beans, samphire, new potatoes, toasted almonds, and a cockle sauce was just great.  The fish offered perfectly cooked, sweet, firm, white flesh that was really well complimented by the salty-freshness of the bean-samphire-cockle combination.  The addition of the toasted almonds was really clever, giving the dish a nice contrast in both flavour and texture. 

The birthday boy hummed and hard before deciding upon slow roast saffron and honey pork belly, with scallops, seasonal greens and smoked bacon.  This turned out to be  quite some present, consisting of three sumptuously tender chunks of Gloucester Old Spot belly, reclining on a bed of vibrant looking – and tasting – spring greens, bejewelled with moist smoky lardons, and bathed in a subtly sweet, saffron-tinged jus.  Plus there were two perfectly cooked scallops guarding each end of the oblong plate on which the dish was served.  To be honest, I was a little envious of my Dad’s dish.  But then my Mother let me try some of her chicken. Or to be specific, pot roasted chicken, creamed leaks, roasted shallots and sautéed potatoes.  The vegetables – and the creamed leaks in particular – were really great, but it was the portions of simply-cooked Poussin that made this dish exceptional.  All around the table agreed it was one of the most succulent and flavourful chicken dishes any of us had sampled in a long while.

Bitter orange croissant & butter pudding
Bitter orange bread pudding – yum!

The quality of our main courses certainly left us wanting to try more of what the Pickled Piglet had to offer, so the dessert menus didn’t have to be brandished twice. My Limoncello curd, baked meringue, with honey and ginger crunch was perfectly fine – a citrusy-tart crème patissiere married well with the crunchy shortbread and crispy meringue.  Yet I could have gladly hijacked either of my parents’ puddings.  My Mum’s chocolate torte with winter berry compote and vanilla cream was a triumphant melding of rich cocoa, sweet yet sharp fruit, and subtle vanilla creaminess.  Father’s croissant bread and butter pudding with marmalade sauce and clotted cream was so good it’s hard to do it justice in print. Wonderfully buttery pastry bathed in bitter-sweet Seville orange sauciness, that provided a perfect flavour counterpoint, then this all topped with in a creamily sour-tinged quenelle and candied orange peel.  Pudding perfection.

By the time we had finished our coffees and liqueurs, half a dozen or so other diners had arrived at the restaurant.  But, to be honest, with food as uniformly good as that offered by the Pickled Piglet, together with the flexibility of the menu, and the relaxed – but nonetheless chic – ambience the restaurant and accompanying bar ooze, I amazed that potential punters aren’t queuing at the door to secure a table.  If there is one regret about my visit to the Pickled Piglet, it’s that I live 250 miles away from it.  I certainly will be planning to visit my parents again very soon – just to be a good son, and nothing to do with sampling fab food, of course…

Food 8.5/10
Atmosphere 7/10 (but only because it was so quiet)
Service 7.5/10
Value 7.5/10

Ambience – Expect a venue with a relaxed – but elegant – bistro/café ambience.

The Pickled Piglet on Urbanspoon

bistro/ blog/ Edinburgh/ food/ restaurant/ review

Edinburgh Restaurant Review: The Apiary – Make a beeline for this buzzing bistro

a pudding of chocolate brioche with ice cream and custard
Choco-brioche butter pudding loveliness. 

I’m sure I am not alone in thinking that late February can be a bit grim. Whilst spring is tantalisingly just round the corner, the second month of the year can still dampen spirits, with its short days, long nights and stormy weather. Sometimes, a pick-me-up is needed at this time of year. And what better to boost spirits than visiting a new restaurant that is generating a bit of a buzz?

I had already been hearing good things – from the likes of Lunchquest and Scotland on Sunday’s Richard Bath – about The Apiary, even though the place only opened a few weeks before Christmas 2013. Occupying premises in Edinburgh’s Newington district – that previously housed the Metrople café-bar – a glance at the new restaurant’s website indicated it promised “Modern British grub to comfort or excite; pickling, smoking and preserving all done in house…” together with “Top to tail offerings dressed head to toe in tasty.” Home curing, smoking and pickling AND nose to tail grub – well that most definitely whets my appetite. So maybe The Apiary would provide the culinary lift I was looking for?

Initial portents were promising, as so busy was the restaurant on a wet winter Saturday that the only dinner reservation available was at 7pm. When we arrived, the large and airy dining area was already peppered with full tables, so we were courteously shown to one of the leather-upholstered booths that line its walls. With the combined a la carte and specials menus offering plenty to consider – including some very appetising-looking sharing platters – we ordered a couple of beers (with my Harviestoun Wild Hop IPA being notably refreshingly bitter) whilst we made our choices.


Just as when we thought we’d finished placing our order, our server – and I should point out that the front of house staff really know the menu, and how to make diners feel at ease – drew our attention to the “side bar” section of the carte. A side order of crispy pig’s ear, smoked Maldon salt and aioli – oh why ever not?! And as our starters appeared so did a beautifully crisp – yet fruity – bottle of Marqués de Altillo Rioja blanco.

A Ham hock hash cake with poached egg and hollondaise.
Ham hock hash & hollandaise.

Our choice of wine proved an ideal accompaniment to JML’s first course of ham hock hash cake, with poached egg and hollandaise. This proved to be a generous, round slab of fried mashed potato combined with meaty morsels exuding delicious smoked porcine flavours, and brilliantly set off with silky-smooth sauce and an egg poached to perfection. To be honest, it was a challenge to solicit a forkful from my dining partner for me to try. My choice of starter counts as one of my all-time favourite dishes, so the pressure was on – but I needn’t have worried. The plate of crispy whitebait that landed on the table was absolutely spot on, harbouring an intense taste of seafood which was further enhanced by being dipped in the accompanying citrus-infused mayonnaise. This was most definitely good mood food.

For his main course, JML moved from ham to lamb – a dry spice rubbed rump (to be precise) accompanied by mint yoghurt, Moroccan aubergine and flatbread. When carved, the meat was a perfectly-cooked pink, with its great taste being further enhanced by a coating of North African spiciness. Together with the well-matched accompanying ingredients, this was a plate that would definitely have you believe you were dining nearer Marrakech than Marchmont!

A dish of Roast breast of pheasant and pigeon with red cabbage and mash.
Fab pheasant – but maybe a bit more saucy? 

My choice of pheasant breast wrapped in prosciutto, pigeon breast, crème potato mash, braised red cabbage, and red wine jus presented perhaps the only slight blip in what was turning into an excellent evening. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t a bad dish at all, with the pheasant being richly gamey and succulent (which can be hard to achieve this late in the season), and the accompanying prosciutto and red cabbage respectively adding nice salty and fruity contrast. But the crème mash could have maybe been a wee bit more, well creamy, and it would have been nice to have had more of a puddle of the wine reduction on the plate. It’s probably just that the starters had set the bar very high. We couldn’t fault the side of crispy, salted, shredded pig’s ear, mind – imagine sweet, crisp, umami-laden slithers of pork scratching, and you’ll be getting there.

Having put away two pretty accomplished courses, we paused for breath before consuming pudding. This gave me time to properly take in the ambience of The Apiary, and I have to say the team behind it have managed to create a really pleasingly informal – but not too laid back – vibe, the kind that can be frequently encountered when dining in decent bistros on continental Europe. A commendable achievement in a building that was formerly a bank.

Pudding of Coconut and cardamom sponge with Malibu and lime syrup.
A cracking coconut & cardamom sponge. 

And so to the desserts… I went for the warm coconut and cardamom sponge, with a Malibu and lime syrup and vanilla ice cream. It was light, yet packed with exotic coconut richness, which combined tremendously with the subtle floral hint provided by the cardamom, and the zingy notes coming from the lime syrup. Plus the ice cream was excellent, too. Across the table from me, an absolute triumph of a sweet was being consumed. The combination of a chocolate and brioche butter pudding, with orange zest, chocolate and stem ginger ice cream, and crème anglaise was something magical. It tasted every bit as warming and comforting as it looked, and those are the words spoken by someone who claims not to have a sweet tooth.

This restaurant is a cracking wee find. It’s friendly, without being too casual; the front of house staff are simply charming; and the kitchen turns out some fantastically enjoyable and inventive food, yet without making it overly complicated. It also offers some excellent lunch and pre-theatre deals. To be honest, it’s the sort of place you’d probably like to keep as your little secret. But that wouldn’t be fair. So, as the long winter closes (or at any other time of year, for that matter) if you want to put a spring in your step, make a beeline for The Apiary.

Food 8/10
Atmosphere 8/10
Service 8/10
Value 8/10

Ambience – Expect a venue with a relaxed – but elegant – bistro/café ambience.

The Apiary on Urbanspoon

blog/ diner/ Edinburgh/ food/ Glasgow/ restaurant/ review/ USA

Glasgow Restaurant Review: Ad Lib – Bringing an authentic flavour of NYC to GLA

Sumptuously sticky ribs
Sumptuously sticky ribs. 

The Dear Green Place, Glasvegas, Glaschu or simply Glasgow. Whatever you prefer to call it, as an Edinburgher I have a soft spot for Scotland’s second city. Yet despite the fact that it’s only 40 miles and 50 minutes away on the train, for some reason I don’t seem to visit Scotland’s largest metropolis anywhere as often as I should, despite the fact it has some great places to eat and drink. The centre of Glasgow is architecturally stunning, and very different from Edinburgh. Like Birmingham – the city of my birth – it grew out of the industrial revolution, and similarly its city centre is still adorned with many of the grand Victorian buildings constructed from its industrial wealth. Central Glasgow is also laid out in a grid system, which – it is rumoured – inspired the one that is now such a prominent feature of New York. It has even doubled as the Big Apple on a number of film shoots.

How appropriate then that when JML and I caught up with some friends in Glasgow last weekend, one of the members of our party suggested we go for lunch at Ad Lib – a New York-inspired eatery a stone’s through away from the city’s grand Central Station (sorry!). To be honest, it wasn’t a place I had heard of before, but I do love the melting pot of influences and flavours there is to be had in a decent US diner – even one located on Scotland’s West Coast – so was most definitely keen to give it a go.

A blackboard of splendid special dishes.
Splendid specials.

The frontage of Ad Lib is certainly understated – not the brash Americana one might expect, given its culinary specialisation – and my first thought on stepping through the door was that the place was “toty”. Yet I was actually greeted by a slim, but cleverly stylish, dining space leading to the bar and main restaurant area, and which matches vermillion walls, cubic wooden furniture and tasteful, US-influenced artwork. Collectively, this had more of a nod to Frank Lloyd Wright than Trump Towers, I am pleased to say. Beyond the bar the airy dining room offers more of this stylish, Greenwich Village-esque vibe. But enough already about the décor, what about the food?

Ad Lib’s lunch menu is engaging in a “I really can’t make up my mind what to have” sort of way. Inviting sounding starters and mains, deli salads and sandwiches, gourmet burgers, steak AND lobster (I kid you not), and a burgeoning specials board all vie for attention. Now, for the purposes of this review I shall be focusing on what JML and I consumed, given that trying to cover what eight people were eating might just stretch a point a wee bit too far. Oh, and in terms of drinks, I should point out that Ad Lib serves the excellent Portuguese lager that is Sagres on draft, meaning this was our quaff of choice. So…

A very substantial burrito.
That really is a “Big Burrito”.

In choosing a dish to kick of proceedings, I was somewhat torn. The salt and pepper squid, and Cajun prawn popcorn both sounded really inviting, but in the end it was the sticky molasses baby back ribs, with chilli and star anise than won me over. They certainly did not disappoint, featuring perfectly tender meat adorned in a tackily sweet-rich-spicy sauce, topped with a zingy fresh tomato salsa. Truly splendid. JML’s starter consisted of three ‘sliders’ (why so named?) – mini classic Aberdeen angus burgers accompanied by an onion relish. These were certainly tasty, with the relish providing a nice contrast to the umami flavour of the beef, but maybe the burgers were just ever so slightly on the dry side.

A basket of fried fish and chips
A lovely basket-o-fish.

Deciding on a main was an equally involved affair, especially when the specials board was also brought into play. It was the “Big Burrito” that caught JML’s attention, and this turned out to be a dish that could under no circumstances be accused of being misdescribed. What arrived was a gargantuan portion of seared stake, combined with chorizo, red rice, and black beans, all neatly encased in a dustbin lid-sized tortilla, and topped off with fresh salsa and sour cream. It was a plateful that would not look out of place on Man Versus Food, but the fact that it presented little challenge for my dining companion indicated just how good it was. Having started with turf, I moved onto surf for my main course, deciding to try the intriguingly named Bloody Mary basket ’o’ fish. This transpired to consist of an excellently cooked portion of haddock, bream and king prawns, all coated in a rich – but light – tomato infused batter, and sat upon a mini washing basket of skinny fries. Only a bit more kick and smokiness from the accompanying smoked chilli mayo would have made this really good dish a great one.

A strawberry sundae dessert.
Sundae, scrummy sundae.

By the time it came to ordering sweets, I must admit that we were flagging, as were our waistlines. But so cannily persuasive were the young restaurant staff that we crumbled – we were signed up to the authentic US diner experience, after all. My New York ice cream waffle sundae – accompanied with hot toffee sauce, toasted pecans and berries – provided a good combination of textures flavours, even for someone who is a bit of a self-proclaimed “pudding-o-phobe”. Across the table, a home baked millionaires’ shortbread cheesecake was efficiently dispatched. Very pleasant, but a bit heavy after the “Big Burrito”, was JML’s opinion. Oh, and not enough evidence of the shortbread. Probably wouldn’t have been shopping on Fifth Avenue, as a result.

There is very much to like about Ad Lib. It’s a welcoming restaurant that is simultaneously stylish, yet laid back. It captures the essence of what makes American deli food so tempting and scrumptious, without turning itself into a pastiche. So if you are hungry in GLA and fancy a taste of NYC, be sure to check out this easy-going eatery.

Food 7.5/10
Drink 7/10
Service 7/10
Value 7.5/10

Ambience – Expect a stylish, yet laid back diner-come-bistro.

Ad Lib on Urbanspoon

Bite magazine/ Edinburgh/ restaurant/ review

Bite Magazine Review: A Room in the West End – Make room for fine Scottish flavours

A plate of venison salami and beetroot salad.
Delicious venison salami & beetroot salad.

In my latest review for Bite Magazine I sample some tasty Scottish fare on a balmy October evening, when dining at A Room in the West End (26 William St, EH3 7NH).  The following exert from provides a taster of what was sample, and the full version of the article is available is available in the November edition of Bite.

It’s not typical to experience high teens of an autumnal Scottish evening. How pleasant then to escape such mugginess for the cool, airy basement that houses A Room in the West End. Nestling below Teuchters’ pub, this long established eatery has a reputation for serving inviting bistro food based on quality Scottish ingredients. It did not disappoint. After being warmly greeted and efficiently seated, we decided to quaff a couple of cool beers whilst we chose our food. Thanks to its proximity to its sister hostelry, the restaurant stocks a fine selection of Scots ales and a pint of Perthshire-brewed Sunburst Pilsner (£4.00) proved most refreshing. 

Smoked haddock, with a mush pea puree.
Haddie, sporting a lucious mushy pea puree.

The bistro’s menu rightly makes mention of its use of Scottish produce, so it was unsurprising that JML decided on a classic Cullen Skink (£5.95) to start. Accompanied by a fennel seed scone, the soup struck a really great balance between smokey-sweet fish and creamy sauce, without being overly rich. My venison and green peppercorn salami with warm beetroot, cornichon and pear salad (£5.95) was also a class balancing act. The charcuterie was deliciously spicily-meaty, really complementing the earthy/sweet/sour salad combo. 

Cheesecake with a blackberry sauce.
Fabulous cheesecake with bramble compote.

Possibly taking my queue from JML’s smokey starter, for my main I plumped for roast Finnan Haddie, toasted Stornoway black pudding, mushy peas and dill cream (£14.95). The muckle fish that arrived had tender-peaty flesh that really benefited from its match with the intense blood sausage and minty pea puree flavours, but the combination maybe left the accompanying dill sauce a little overwhelmed. My dining partner’s main of chargrilled chicken breast (£14.45) might have seemed unadventurous. Yet when this beautifully cooked poultry portion was accompanied by toasted venison haggis, confit garlic creamed cabbage and a sun blushed tomato tapenade, the resultant dish was deliciously satisfying.

Full review available here.

bar/ Berlin/ blog/ Feature/ food/ restaurant/ review

Feature Article: A brilliant Berlin culinary odyssey

Brilliant Berlin beer.

Things have been a bit quiet on Scrumptious Scran of late, for which I must apologise. Don’t worry; I haven’t suddenly lost my enthusiasm for food and drink – quite the reverse. It’s just that recently I have had to prioritise starting a new job and celebrating my other half’s 40th birthday, over writing culinary copy. Fortunately though, part of JML’s birthday celebrations involved a trip to Berlin. This has provided an opportunity to compose the first Scrumptious Scran Odyssey article, giving an insight into some of our favourite dining and quaffing experiences in this wonderful city.

Not having visited Berlin before I must admit that we weren’t entirely certain what to expect, in culinary terms. Like any large city, Berlin has a diverse range of restaurant cultures – with Italian appearing to be a particular favourite – but for this visit I was keen to hone in on food that was typical of Berlin or Germany.

Our base was central Berlin’s “Mitte” district, a stone’s throw away from the former Checkpoint Charlie, one of few official crossing points between the former communist East and capitalist West sectors of the city. Our hotel – Gat Point Charlie – was great and very boutique-esque, even though the surrounding area was slightly underwhelming; it’s Berlin’s commercial and government hub being mostly populated by modern multi-stories. However, wander a little and it is possible to find a Germanic culinary gem, such as Augustiner am Gendarmenmarkt – a cavernous eatery that serves traditional Bavarian fare and excellent beer. Be warned, however, so popular is this place that at peak times it is neigh on impossible to secure a dining table, meaning that we had to be content with sitting outside (it being a balmy October evening) whilst consuming a couple of glasses of “hell”.

And I should also point out that when strolling round Berlin’s Mitte district, anyone with a sweet tooth should be sure to call into Fassbender & Rausch – reportedly the world’s largest chocolaterie. Not only does its three floors offer 200 varieties of chocolate, it also features a chocolate volcano and a architecturally accurate model of the Bundestag – made from chocolate.


Cracking currywurst.

Checking out Berlin’s “Museum Island” and surrounding environs provided an opportunity to sample two things I love: sausages and micro-brewed beer. The former came courtesy of Oranium, located in the “Scheunenviertel” or “barn quarter”; an old neighbourhood that found itself on the eastern side of the infamous wall – here’s a hint, if you see a tram you are in former East Berlin… Having perused the menu, I just had to try the Würstchen Trilogie – Berliner Currywurst, Thüringer Rostbratwurst and Nürnberger sausages skewered with leek, onions, and capsicum, served with yellow and red curry dip. Each variety of porky morsel was delicious, even if some flavours were slightly unexpected. I’d heard that Berliners are mad for currywurst – a curry-infused banger. Maybe I was expecting a casein-coated balti, but the spice mix was more akin in its flavour to the sort of curry sauce served by Chinese takeaways – flavoursome yet unusual. For tip-top beer we ventured just south of Alexanderplatz to Brauhaus Georgbraeu. Located in the shadow of the city’s imposing Television Tower, not only are their superb pilsners brewed on the pub’s premises – try the dark lager with its great malty flavour – but these can be enjoyed on a terrace overlooking the River Spree.

Kreuzberg Kaffee und Kuchen.

A definite “must visit” for any food enthusiast is the conjoined neighbourhood of Kreuzberg-Freidrichschain, to the south-east of Berlin’s centre. Kreuzberg is bohemian and, thanks to the fact that WWII air-raids left it relatively unscathed, lined with handsome late 19th and early 20th century buildings. East of its neighbour, Freidrichschain has more DDR/modernist architectural lilt. But whilst different in appearance what they have in common is a great range of bars, cafes and restaurants. Both areas really lend themselves to wandering and stopping off at wherever looks appealing, whether this be for “kaffee und kuchen”, falafel, or a hearty German dish.

 Two places we visited were of particular note. Kuchen Keiser is a pretty café-bar perched on a corner of a tree-lined square. It’s a great place for watching the world go by whilst nursing a glass of cold lager. The food is also highly regarded – with Sunday lunch being a particular favourite amongst locals. I will definitely dine there on my next visit to Berlin, but on this occasion it was just the fine beer that we sampled, as we had already booked a table at the Kreuzberg institution that is Max und Moritz.

Hearty Berliner Küche.

Named after the Wilhelm Busch cartoon characters, stepping into Max and Mortiz is like time travelling back to 1920s Berlin. A stunning bar, adorned in Art Nouveau cobalt blue tiles, greets you upon entry. This then gives way to a vast, labyrinthine dining area furnished with tables and chairs that would not look out of place in Cabaret. The vermillion walls, period electroliers, and wrought-iron fittings complete the Isherwood-esque ambience. The restaurant specialises in “Berliner Küche” – literally “Berlin Kitchen”; a hearty, rustic cuisine, with a German base but influenced by the cooking traditions of those who immigrated to the city from Central and Eastern Europe. Both JML’s and my dishes certainly were hearty. I chose Berliner Eisbein; an enormous salted and pickled pork knuckle accompanied by pickled cabbage, boiled potatoes, a split-pea purée and mustard. The meat was incredibly tender with a great salty/sour flavour, and was really complemented by the uncomplicated, yet delicious, accompaniments. JML’s Bollenfleisch – a traditional lamb stew – was equally satisfying, with flavoursome meat and vegetables bathed in a rich stout and herb sauce.

Russian dumplings.

Berlin isn’t ALL about food and drink of course. It’s a city that just oozes history and still resonates the time it was split in two during the Cold War. Two museums in particular recount how this period impacted the lives of Berliners – the hands-on DDR museum, which charts what life was like for those on the eastern side of the Berlin wall, and the Berlin Wall Memorial, which recounts the history and impact of this divisive structure itself. It was after visiting the latter that we strayed upon a Café Gorki Park – a smashing wee Russian-themed eatery. Located in Scheunenviertel, given that during the cold-war period this district was very much in the Soviet-controlled sector of Berlin, it’s perhaps unsurprising to find a restaurant that gives a culinary nod to Berlin’s recent history. Whilst JML’s choice of “the Russian Burger” might not be construed as being typically Soviet, it was none-the-less very good. My choice of warkeniki was much more Russian in keeping, consisting of handmade dumplings variously stuffed with potato, spinach, Brysna cheese, and minced beef, all accompanied by a tomato salsa and sour cream. Imagine a sort of delicious East European dim sum.

We certainly had a great time in Berlin. As I hope this odyssey indicates, it’s an engaging, intriguing city with some super bars, cafés and restaurants. During a short visit it’s possible to see many of the city’s main attractions, but you will still leave lots to explore. Undoubtedly then, we shall return. There is so much more left to see, eat and drink.

American/ Bite magazine/ Edinburgh/ restaurant/ review

Bite Magazine Review: Calistoga – Raise a glass to Californian cuisine

Delicious Californian wine.
Tasting delicious Californian wine.

My latest review for Bite Magazine is now available in the publication’s October edition (both online and in print). Under the spotlight this month is a great wine tasting and dining experience with a Californian theme, thanks to a visit to Calistoga (70 Rose Street Lane North, EH2 3DX). A taster of the review can be read below, with the full article being available for download from Bite’s website.

Calistoga – Raise a glass to Californian cuisine

Preconceptions aren’t good things. Take American cuisine and wine. It’s basically burgers, hot-dogs and sickly-sweet pink Zinfandel, isn’t it? A recent wine-tasting / dining experience at Calistoga – Edinburgh’s Californian-inspired restaurant – certainly exploded this myth.

Our evening started in the restaurant’s tasting room, where sommelier Alastair Henderson took us through the “Congressional” sampling of two red and white wines (£32pp including a 3 course dinner). Previously working in California’s viticulture industry, Henderson’s experience gives Calistoga exclusive access to some impressive wines, and he imparts real insight into how the Napa Valley’s geography and history influences these.

The 2011 vintage wines sampled were: Freemark Abbey Viognier – lightly scented and dry, but bursting with peach and vanilla flavours; Scott Family Estate Chardonnay – tastes of smokey pineapple and mango; Napa Cellars Pinot Noir – a cherry burst on the nose, luscious soft red berries in the mouth; and Gnarly Head Petite Sirah – scented with nuts and richly flavoured with coffee and raisins.

The Californian-inspired food (3 courses for £25pp) impressed too. I started with a flavoursome spicy chicken and sweet potato frittata, well complemented by a smokey BBQ sauce. The enthusiasm with which JML consumed his Manchego, feta and mozzarella flat bread with arugula (that’s Californian for rocket) pesto indicated how tasty this was.

Fab Flatiron and fries.
Fab Flatiron and fries.

Our mains were carnivorous. JML’s slow cooked pork shoulder was smashingly tender, without falling apart, and the accompanying chorizo mash and rosemary jus provided a great flavour balance to the meat. My chargrilled Buccleuch flat iron steak, with fries and a peppercorn sauce sounded uncomplicated. However, this American shoulder cut of beef was one of the best steaks I have sampled, smokey black outside with a meltingly moist pink interior…

Read the full review at: http://bit.ly/GV5lDx

Great strawberry cheesecake.
More on this tasty pud in the full review.

Calistoga on Urbanspoon Square Meal

blog/ coffee/ Edinburgh/ food/ restaurant/ review

Edinburgh Restaurant Review: Brew Lab – Great coffee, good food, but trouble is a-brewing…

Brew Lab coffee machine.
Coffee syphon action (courtesy of Brew Lab website).

It’s a horribly wet Wednesday morning. I am en route to a training course, so my normal morning work routine – coffee from my usual supplier, and maybe a pastry – is totally out of the window. I need caffeine before I am imparted with the secrets of writing a killer CV. And I need it NOW!

Fortunately, I’m in the very centre of Edinburgh’s university quarter. This means I have time to swing by the achingly cool speciality coffee shop that is Brew Lab (6-8 College Street, EH8 9AA) to pick up a latte, prior to the commencement of my morning’s instruction. This would be my second visit to Brew Lab this week. Later in the day, a lunchtime meeting there with a colleague will be my third. As you will find, like a decaying radioactive element (well it is called Brew “Lab”), each visit will have diminishing returns.

Located in a two conjoined, traditional former shops, Brew Lab serves a fantastic range of artisan coffees. And I really emphasise that they are fantastic. The bar brews two rotating single origin coffees every day, as well as its own custom espresso blend. As you enter the venue the “business” area has an intentional scientific influence. There is a coffee menu on the wall behind the baristas that resembles the periodic table. As well as a very high-end espresso machine – located on a facsimile of a lab bench – punters have options to have their java delivered by intriguing methods of distillation. It gave me flashbacks to biochemistry 101. Beyond the ordering section, the seating area takes distressed to the extreme. There is stripped back chic and then there is “are the builders still here?” chic. Not unpleasant, though.

My first visit to Brew Lab on Monday this week was great. A beautiful flat white accompanied great banter with a food-writing colleague.  The coffee was some of the best I have tasted.  This morning, I was in a rush for a takeaway. No real queue at the “lab”, just a chap in front buying a dozen pastries. But whilst waiting to be served, witnessing an ongoing chat between baristas about how sweet the coffee is, before my order is taken, is not a great start. Neither is being informed that the coffee is “so sweet, it doesn’t need sugar”. That’s my choice. I do not wish to enter a debate about it.  It did have a natural sweetness, but after a couple of sips – once I left the shop – it became apparent that a wee pinch of sugar was needed to meet my personal taste.


Back at lunchtime, I grabbed a very good baguette and some water prior to meeting a colleague for a catch-up coffee. The sandwich combined really fresh bread, lovely Emmental, and tasty salt beef. I needed to scoff, swig and check emails. I asked about the WiFi password – but the WiFi wasn’t on. As the venue’s website indicates, “From Monday 16 September, to ensure that everyone that wants to have lunch at Brew Lab can do so, our wifi will turn off automatically from 11:45-14:00 Mon-Fri during term-time”. How would I know this before dining – I had no internet connection?! Plus the walls are so thick, mobile connections are very patchy. “It’s to ensure we converse over lunch” is what the students on the table next to me assumed. No, it’s a cynical attempt to maximise covers at the expense of customer satisfaction, I might wager.  This really must be the only coffee shop in Edinburgh not to offer WiFi to its customers at peak times.  And what really gets my goat is that it isn’t made absolutely obvious that there is no lunchtime WiFi, prior to punters purchasing coffee or food.  A sign, making this glaringly obvious, is badly needed…

When my colleague arrived, I trotted off to the lab/barista area to order coffees and cake – the gluten free Bakewell tart is superb. However, Brew Lab doesn’t go for table service, but rather a system of ordering at the bar with subsequent delivery to the table. This is a big mistake. I do not wish to wait for ten minutes to be served whilst the two punters before me dance a tango with a front of house person continually rebooting a totally erratic card machine. This being whilst the other six staff working the “lab” area appeared oblivious to the, increasingly fractious, cash laden queue.  The way service operates means at busy times – and the place was packed on this particular lunchtime – punters either have to take a chance on buying “sit-in” coffee and food but having nowhere to sit, or (as I witnessed) place an order then skip off to check there are seats, before this is processed. Whilst customers who have bagged tables are left queueing to place orders…

To be honest, I am annoyed, because this place could achieve so much more of what it promises. Maybe it’s my age and the fact that the weather was rubbish. But I have experienced similar, equally impressive, coffee bars in the USA and Europe, each of which are very much better in how they deliver the customer experience. The base product – drinks, pastries, and sandwiches – cannot be faulted. The coffee is amazing. But this is not a place that should be run like a student union canteen. It positions itself as a top end coffee joint. Well, it could be…

Food 7.5/10
Drink 9.5/10
Service 4.5/10
Value 6.5/10
Ambience – A scruffy yet posh coffee shop, without WiFi at lunchtime.

Brew Lab Artisan Coffee Bar on Urbanspoon

Bite magazine/ Edinburgh/ restaurant/ review/ Scottish

Bite Magazine review: A delicious date with The Edinburgh Larder Bistro

Chocolate & lavender torte with coffee jelly.
Chocolate & lavender torte with coffee jelly.

My third review for Bite Magazine is now published on Bite’s website and in the September print edition of the magazine.  This month, JML and I paid a second visit to The Edinburgh Larder Bistro, to find out if a recent refurbishment and appointment of a new head chef had made a difference to this classy Scottish eatery.  A taster of the article is printed below, and you can read the full version on Bite Magazine’s website.

A delicious date with The Edinburgh Larder Bistro

Second dates can be intriguing; a chance to confirm or dispel first impressions. So a couple of months on from a great first visit to The Edinburgh Larder Bistro I was keen to dine there again, not least because it has recently had a refurbishment and change of head chef.

This West End basement restaurant now has a more “nouveau rustic” feel, combining white-washed walls with tastefully weathered furniture, and trendy wicker fittings. Seated in the airy conservatory space beyond the main dining area, we were, however, pleased to see that the menu remained packed with the seasonal, locally-sourced, sometimes foraged ingredients that are the bistro’s trademark.

JML chose to open with squid with black pudding, gooseberry syrup, pickled carrots and Arran leaves (£5.95) – a great combination of seafood and meaty flavours, well balanced by acid gooseberry and sour/sharp pickle. My rabbit loin, potato purée, barley, green leaf sauce and cider butter (£6.50) comprised two moist chunks of tasty meat atop an invitingly creamy base, surrounded by pools of tangy sauce and pearls of verdant pesto. Both starters were very well composed and beautifully presented, though somewhat tepid. The wine choice of a bottle of dry, grapefruity picpoul de pinet (£20) matched them well.

Read the full review at: http://bit.ly/17Wt5R3
blog/ curry/ Edinburgh/ food/ Indian/ restaurant/ review

Edinburgh Restaurant Review: The spice is right – Mother India’s Café

Mother India's Cafe montage.
Mother India’s fare (courtesy of their website). 

I suppose I am what might be termed as a ‘honourary’ Scot. I’ve lived the majority of my life north of the border, and am hitched to a “Weegie”. My vocabulary is now littered with Scots phrases – an overcast morning isn’t “dull”, but rather “gey dreich”. Yet listen carefully and there is sometimes still a wee hint in my voice betraying that I originally hail from the UK’s Curry Capital. Not Glasgow (obviously), nor Bradford, Manchester or London’s Brick Lane. For by birth, I am a Brummie.

I adore Asian food, and I think my growing up in a city where a substantial proportion of the population can trace its heritage to India, Pakistan and Bangladesh has much to do with this. I went to school in a part of Birmingham that was blessed with a plethora of Asian-run shops and eateries. I still have vivid memories of walking past these, taking in the sights of the (then) weird, yet wonderful-looking, fruit and vegetables displayed outside grocers’ shops and the amazing smells of cooking spices as they emanated from restaurants.

Last weekend, with my parents visiting from Birmingham, I was keen to show them that great Indian cooking isn’t only the preserve of the city of my birth. And in Edinburgh there is no finer place to demonstrate this than Mother India’s Café. Located just off “The Bridges” on Infirmary Street (EH1 1LT) this has been an incredibly popular restaurant since its opening five years ago. Even at 6.30pm on a Friday the main dining area was packed, so we were shown to our table in the restaurant’s basement, which was thankfully was not dark and dingy as some subterranean eateries can be. No clichéd flock wallpaper or piped sitar music to be found here though, oh no – just modern, minimalist furniture complementing the white-washed walls, which are adorned with arty photos portraying life across the Indian sub-continent.

Equally refreshing is the restaurant’s menu. Mother India’s Café serves an Indian take on tapas – sometimes also referred to as tiffin. Their a la carte menu features a staggering 42 dishes, as well as daily specials and accompaniments such as various forms of bread and rice. Non-meat eaters are very well served, as nearly half the dishes available are either vegetarian or vegan. As recommended by the restaurant, we decided to order five or six dishes between us, accompanied by a couple of portions of naan bread and basmati rice. The very courteous waiting staff obviously know the menu inside out, as they were immediately able to suggest something suitable for my Mother, who doesn’t have a particular soft spot for dishes heavy on chilli.

Whilst our mains were being cooked, we were served the ubiquitous poppadums accompanied by some very tasty (and I suspect home-made) pickles and chutneys, variously washed down with warm, cinnamon-infused chai and cool Kingfisher larger. Our curry “tapas” duly arrived in short order, together with substantial naans and steaming fluffy rice. All dishes looked vibrant, being presented in their miniature balti dishes and casserole pots.


The lamb saag was rich, the succulent meat being bathed in an earthy, spinach-laden sauce with a hint of methi. Two of our chicken-based dishes – chilli garlic chicken, and ginger chicken and spinach leaf – superficially looked quite similar, with tender pieces of breast and thigh surrounded by a deep (but not artificial) red sauce. Tasting revealed them to be quite different, with the chilli garlic chicken having a real kick – as might be expected – and the ginger-based dish having more subtle, fruity warmth.

The chicken makhni (which means butter) consisted of delicate meat accompanied by a substantial, creamy gravy, though whilst not in the least bit hot to taste still had a spicy depth. The spiced haddock – a bit of an unfamiliar wildcard amongst our order – was quite a revelation, consisting of a substantial fillet of fish marinaded in a Punjabi spice blend and then perfectly baked en papilliote. And last, but not least, the lamb karahi matched the fruitiness from the tomato-based sauce with an intensity of flavour provided by chilli and masala.

All of the dishes we consumed had a real zesty freshness to them, which hinted that they were cooked to order. They also exhibited none of the cloying oiliness that can sometimes be present in Indian takeaway fare. And whilst the portions served at Mother India’s Café are purposely quite small, five or six of these shared between four people makes for a substantial meal.

When my Father – who also loves Asian food – comments that “it was one of the best Indian meals I have had in a long time”, it’s a sure sign that Edinburgh has a venue that can certainly give the best curry houses in the land a run for their money.

Food – 8.5/10
Atmosphere – 7.5/10
Service – 8/10
Value – 8/10

Ambience – Expect a busy, modern Indian restaurant.

Mother India's Cafe on UrbanspoonSquare Meal

Subscribe to receive email updates from Scrumptious Scran