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Welcome to Lunch Quest: Edinburgh, a jolly little blog capturing our appreciation of Edinburgh eateries. We'll post weekly reviews of our chosen lunch spots, and hope to offer you a good steer on where to eat in our favourite city.

L'Escargot Bleu

Finally reconciled to ploughing a lonely Gallic furrow without the excellent MJ, I took myself down to Broughton Street, today, for a spot of lunch at L'Escargot Bleu. I'd bumped in to my friend Julian, the other day, when we'd just finished our quest with Jemma, in Cafe St Honore, and we'd made a plan to meet for lunch, soon. This was the plan coming to fruition.

The place comes highly recommended by my friend Andrew, whose other previous recommendation, Castle Terrace, turned out very nicely, so it was with an optimistic gait that I toddled down the road.

L'Escargot Bleu is another example of “Auld Alliance” cuisine: solid French principles coupled with the best of local produce. It has three outlets across Edinburgh (L’Escargots Bleu and Blanc, along with L’Epicerie, which offers high-quality ingredients for the keen home cook).

It was a gloriously sunny day, and I walked in to the restaurant to find it bathed in light and looking the picture of Parisian charm. I was soon joined by Julian, who heralded the arrival of many other patrons, to make it a busy lunchtime service.

Menu options included an a la carte, served all day, and a lunch/pre-theatre menu on the specials board. A couple of dishes were missing, due to the fresh, local ingredients not having arrived yet (!), but we had an excellent array from which to make our choices.

Is it boring that I chose soup? Possibly not, but it was boring for Julian, because he chose not to have a starter, meaning that the elapsed time between his arrival and his main course arriving totalled an hour. I’m getting things a touch out of order. There were a few reasons why things took so long.


My soup arrived. It came in a very similar bowl to how I’d been served celeriac soup, quite the autumnal favourite, in both Rogano and The Mulroy. That is where the similarity ended. This soup was of a thin, milky consistency, and utterly without discernible flavour. To compound matters, the shape of the spoon made it incredibly difficult to get the soup out of the bowl, once you’d dealt with the top few spoonfuls. It was an abject failure – a thoroughly ghastly farrago. The spoon-bowl-shape situation meant that I left some soup in the dish. I was not sorry to have to do so, as I was really struggling to stay interested in the contents.

Thankfully, the main courses took a moment or two to appear, but when they did they fared considerably better. Julian was delighted with his chicken, which looked like good hearty fare.


I was pleased with the veal casserole. The meat had been braised to perfection, and fell apart at the mention of cutlery, but it lacked memorable, lingering flavour.


The roasted pumpkin, full of caramel cinnamon notes, that accompanied it, was probably the highlight of the whole meal. I could have happily munched my way through a hundredweight of that before all my teeth fell out from the attack of sweetness.


Many places that offer specific lunch menus are used to business lunches being served quickly to accommodate those fitting lunch into their working day. This was firmly not the case for L’Escargot Bleu. The patrons were very much at their leisure, and the service fit in around that model. I mention it more as an observation, than a criticism. Perhaps the sun just inspired a relaxed approach to life, today.


Good coffees rounded out what had been a decidedly mixed bag of an experience. It’s hard to think how I would have responded to the place had I ordered differently for my starter, but that’s something we’ll simply never know.

Overall, a place that serves me soup as bad as what L’Escargot Bleu had to offer is on a hiding to nothing. I left a bowl of soup unfinished. The only time this has previously happened was when I was nine years old and first introduced to oxtail soup via of the Knorr packet variety. I tried hard to let its other obvious charms win me over, but unforgivable sins are by their very nature unforgivable. Go sample the place for yourself, as it’s stylish and has good principles at its heart. Just steer well clear of the soup.

Scores

Blythe scores L’Escargot Bleu:
2/5 for food
3/5 for presentation
3/5 for service
4/5 for setting
giving an overall 12/20

Julian scores L’Escargot Bleu:
4.5/5 for food
4/5 for presentation
3.5/5 for service
4/5 for setting
giving an overall 16/20

Today’s late Lunch Questers were: Julian, Blythe

We wore: simple blue suit, complicated brown suit

We ate: celeriac soup, chicken breast with wild mushrooms and thyme, veal shoulder casserole, petits pois and carrots, roasted pumpkin

We drank: sparkly water, still water, coffees

Total bill: c.£40

L'escargot Bleu on Urbanspoon

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Hula Juice Bar - Sitting In

I was pressed for time, the other day, so had to opt for the takeaway option from Hula. As you will have read, I had a jolly time to myself.

An opportunity arose to pay a visit, before my trip to Hongfu, yesterday, so I seized it.

Given that it was Hallowe'en weekend, I wasn't surprised to see a queue snaking it's way from the costume shop, next door, past Hula's sunny entrance way. I timed it to miss the lunchtime rush, but found the place still nicely busy, as it was throughout my stay.

Guess what I ate? It was of the pea and ham variety. Rather spectacularly, it came with a rustic slice of cheese on toast.


This style of pea and ham, made from green split peas, is one that I have a habit of mangling quite badly, ending up with a soup that whilst flavoursome is way too gritty. No such mistakes were made here, with a beautifully rustic bowl of soupy goodness, with complex texture and hearty flavour.

Susan then popped over with a lovely little sample of one of their trademark smoothies. Slowly but surely, she's starting to convince me of their merit. I don't think it's ever going to get to the stage where I'll be creating a smoothie league table, but it's good to learn to appreciate new things.


I topped things off with an excellent Artisan Roast espresso. It was head and shoulders above any coffee I've sampled so far on our quests, so it was worth the trip for that alone.


Overall, Hula expertly reinforced the initial perception from my takeaway visit. Pay it a visit, soon, because I have a feeling you'll warm to it as much as I have.

I ate: pea & ham soup, cheese on toast

I drank: water, sample of whirling dervish smoothie, espresso

I wore: whirling dervish coloured suit

Total bill: c.£7

Hula on Urbanspoon

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Hongfu Noodle Bar

Hong Fu Noodle Bar is just across the road from my work. I've walked past it countless times, and always thought, "I must try it." When I was asked to recommend a place for a big group of friends, it seemed like the ideal opportunity to do just that.


I recall being in the place when it was a bar, on the odd occasion, and the layout remains very similar. We were a party of 11, so they'd set us up at a simply appointed round table, somewhat in the style of the court of King Arthur. Given its location, looking out over Princes Street, you can't help feel that something more could be done with the location, but maybe that will develop in time.

Standards of promptness (aside from Kevin and David) were nowhere near what I've grown used to under the expert guidance of MJ. Once we were assembled, we decided to go for a large range of dishes from their extensive menu. The attentive waiter took our starter order first, to get the ball rolling, then soon popped back to capture our main course requirements.

I ate soup (!) with the tomato and egg proving a very pleasing choice. It was light, subtle and an excellent opener.


Others ate various dumplings, that seemed "well caramelized" on the underside (they looked burnt to me), but were positively received.


The portions of squid, munched on by my fellow diners, were particularly large, and looked to be very tasty.


The ribs looked good, as did the cucumber salad, which our vegetarian guest, Sandra, tucked into.




While we are on the topic, Sandra has agreed to write a regular contribution highlighting vegetarian dining experiences in Edinburgh, which we hope will be a useful addition to our merry little site.

Ana's starter took a little while longer to arrive, and I'm not 100% it was what she ordered, but this was the only major blip.

Main courses soon followed, with a impressive array of items, supplemented by some rice and noodles to share.


My Irish Mussels were huge, meaty green-lipped chaps, served in a ginger-infused sauce. I was really happy with them. The photo, above, does them little justice.


Other dishes were warmly received, particularly the Mongolian beef, which was served in something that looked like an ice-cream cone, and the mountain chicken.


A vast plate of trotters also did the rounds, to nods of approval.


I sampled a nicely prepared prawn in dry chilli.


Again, Ana didn't have much luck with her dish, which looked somewhat unspectacular by comparison.


Towards the end of our mains, a huge group of Chinese diners came in and sat next to us, although we were separated by a curtain. They were loudly enjoying matters, feasting on dishes that looked decidedly "off menu", and chugging shots with some abandon. 'The Only Way is Beijing' was the phrase that sprung to mind.

My group of friends are huge devotees of Wing Sing Inn, and will proclaim to all who will listen that it's the best Chinese place in Edinburgh. The compliment that they paid Hongfu was to talk of it in the same sentence, saying that it was the first place they've come across that could be considered as a challenger to its supremacy.

Overall, I think Hongfu has solid claims on being one of the best restaurants of its type in Edinburgh. Ana would strongly disagree with that, but I don't think I've ever eaten in a large group where there hasn't been at least some dissent (something about not being able to please all of the people, all of the time etc). The balance of opinion, as related in the extensive scoring, below, rates Hongfu as very good. I'll be back to review its set lunch menu, over the next couple of weeks, given its handy proximity to my place of work.

Today's Lunch Questers were: Kevin, Douglas, Phil, Sandra, Michael, Malcolm, Ana, Andrew, Alan, David, Blythe

We ate: Tomato and egg soup, assorted dumplings, salt and chilli squid, mountain chicken, trotters, irish mussels, roast duck, tiger prawns in dry chilli sauce, vegetable chow mein, mongolian beef, noodles, rice, and many other items.

We wore: fuschia shoes, geometric pattern waistcoat, striped shirts (4), black shirts (2), red crown logo, floral top, chest hair poking out of white shirt.

We drank: Fosters, wine, Tsintao, Guinness

Scores

Kevin scores Hongfu:
4/5 for food
4/5 for presentation
3/5 for setting
4/5 for service
giving overall 15/20

Douglas scores Hongfu:
4/5 for food
4/5 for presentation
3/5 for setting
3.5/5 for service
giving overall 14.5/20

Phil scores Hongfu:
4/5 for food
4/5 for presentation
3/5 for setting
4/5 for service
giving overall 15/20

Sandra scores Hongfu:
3/5 for food
4/5 for presentation
3/5 for setting
3/5 for service
giving overall 13/20

Michael scores Hongfu:
4/5 for food
3/5 for presentation
2/5 for setting
4/5 for service
giving overall 13/20

Malcolm scores Hongfu:
4/5 for food
3/5 for presentation
3/5 for setting
4/5 for service
giving overall 14/20

Ana scores Hongfu:
2/5 for food
2/5 for presentation
1/5 for setting
3/5 for service
giving overall 8/20

Andrew scores Hongfu:
4/5 for food
4/5 for presentation
3/5 for setting
4/5 for service
giving overall 15/20

Alan scores Hongfu:
3/5 for food
4/5 for presentation
5/5 for setting
3/5 for service
giving overall 15/20

David scores Hongfu:
4/5 for food
3.5/5 for presentation
2/5 for setting
4/5 for service
giving overall 13.5/20

Blythe scores Hongfu:
4/5 for food
4/5 for presentation
3/5 for setting
4/5 for service
giving overall 15/20

Total bill: £267.20 (11 diners)

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Castle Terrace



Blythe’s Verdict
I sometimes make good decisions. It’s a rarity, but when it’s time for a good one, I try to make it a really good one. I booked a table at Castle Terrace the night before the launch of the new Michelin Guide. When the restaurant was awarded a much-coveted star, a little over a year after first opening its doors, I felt like I’d made one of my more splendid decisions.

A nice welcome

Chef Patron, Dominic Jack, has learnt his trade in some interesting locations around the globe. Aside from the obligatory stint in France, he spent time in Haslemere, where my niece lives, and in Istanbul, a city for which I have an unending well of affection. So, from the outset, I have to admit to being somewhat pre-disposed to like the chap. What he chose to serve me in his restaurant, combining Gallic elegance with the crème de la crème of local produce did nothing to dent this initial impression.

Now, you can probably guess what my beamish Alabamian pal’s purple prose is going to say about the fussy French style. On our schedule, this is the last place that has even the merest soupcon of French influence, at least for a little while. After weeks of being gently but firmly bludgeoned around the head, I can eventually take a hint.

I’m happy to retire from ploughing this particular furrow for now, as I think we’ve incontrovertibly established that with places like this, The Mulroy, The Bonham, and Mark Greenaway, Edinburgh does this style of “Auld Alliance” cuisine remarkably well. And so it should. It does other styles rather less well, and I’m happy to try to seek out good restaurants in these styles, in the coming weeks. Of course, I’m off to L’Escargot Bleu on Tuesday, but I won’t mention it to MJ if you don’t.

I digress, excessively. Upon arriving at Castle Terrace, I was greeted by a whole symphony orchestra of staff, who showed me to my table. In a rare occurrence, my excessive promptness exceeded even MJ’s. Indeed, our esteemed guest, Edinburgh Foody, arrived next, followed by MJ.

Unfortunately, our fourth, Yelp’s Jenny, couldn’t make it along, much to her disappointment. I could say that I’d planned to treat her to lunch as a small thank you for organising the highly successful Yelp Eats week in Edinburgh, but you might suspect me of only saying that to make myself look like the bountiful host, so I’ll stay silent on the matter.

I had a moment or two to take in my surroundings. I must say I was largely underwhelmed by the look of the place. It’s neat and unfussy, but low on impact. At points throughout service it became clear that the room isn’t particularly well set-up for their needs, especially with the spectacular cheese trolley, of which more later, so this could use a little work, I think.

While we contemplated the menus, we were given a little tray of items to munch upon. This included a couple of savoury cookies, cheesy crostini, gougeres, and little pieces of crispy spinach and squid ink pasta. These were very ordinary, so let’s not speak of them further.



The waiting staff all did a momentary disappearing act, but soon enough, and with only very minor stage management, we contrived to order one of everything from the set lunch menu. With these choices made, a little amuse bouche soon made its way to our table.

A taste of carrot and coriander topped with a cumin crumble, was how it was described. A post-volcanic espresso is how it looked. Once a spoon was introduced, what we had looked like a soft boiled egg, topped with ash. But the taste. Oh my lord, the taste. It was a spectacular little concoction, with the dry crumb of the cumin topping balancing out the smoothness of the puree, with tiny chunks of carrot offering yet more textural variance. I could have eaten a small vat-load of the stuff.

I opted for the broccoli veloute as my starter. In pleasingly theatrical style, the dish came to the table as a small arrangement of broccoli, dunsyre blue ravioli and crème fraiche, over which the veloute was subsequently poured. I can safely say that never have I tasted a dish where more flavour had been extracted from the ingredients. The little blue cheese parcels were exploding with flavour and would have totally overwhelmed your average broccoli soup. However, we were not dealing with your average broccoli soup, here. The concentration of broccoli flavour within the veloute was sensational, easily strong enough to combat the fearsomely gutsy blue cheese. It was a flavour epic, with both sides battling for my affections, with the white flag of the crème fraiche serving to secure my total surrender. Splendid!

Velouté of West Gate farm broccoli

Just look at the vibrant colours!

My main course of partridge arrived, and looked a very bonnie little fella, resplendent in its Sunday best bonnet. It seemed a shame to cut into it, but I was soon reconciled to the task. The contents were of supreme quality. The tender, gamey meat of the partridge combined beautifully with the saltiness of the lardons, which were perfectly offset by the carrots and cabbage. Each mouthful, moistened by the partridge jus, was expertly judged to pack-in oodles of flavour to dazzle my palette. This was another absolute winner of a dish.

Partridge

It looks like a stylish hat for gnomes!


The theatre of the cheese trolley came next, with a dizzying cheese selection presented from which five were chosen by a combination of my fellow diners and the attendant waiter. These were lined up in order from mild to strong, and accompanied by fig jelly, quince jelly, grapes celery, and apple chutney. The homemade oatcakes were, I think, MJ’s favourite thing about the whole meal. The dinky slices of walnut bread were lovely, too. In addition, I had to lend a hand with the richly flavoured vanilla crème brulee, even though I don’t really do desserts.

Cheese trolley




We were left to contemplate our verdict, after this full-on flavour assault. I can’t fault Castle Terrace in terms of food and presentation. It offers what are without doubt some of the most flavour-packed dishes this city has to offer. I was blown away repeatedly by their intensity and power. The setting doesn’t match the pizzazz, nor does it offer a calming counterpoint, so there’s a little thought to be applied to the design of the place. The service, while hitting all the notes you’d expect, is sometimes a little fragmented, so could use a wee polish.

Overall, please join the queue to go and sample Dominic Jack’s exceptional food. It’s an absolute joy to behold and to savour. I got a real sense that this place is on an upward curve, as well. It delivers excellence, at the moment, but I have a feeling that this is only the start of some spectacular things to come. I’ll be back, hopefully once we’ve exorcised MJ of her French fanciness-hating demons, and I’ll expect great things, based on the supreme quality of what we sampled, today.


MJ’s Verdict

When B heard that The Castle Terrace was tipped to receive that all-important Michelin star, he booked us in for lunch before the list was released. Good call, I say, good call. I tried my darnedest to not be negative on the French cuisine, so I bucked up. I cannot tell you how many times I have walked past this restaurant on my way to various places, and it never quite clicked that it was a restaurant at all, but today I was paying attention as I strolled up to it and watched a lovely elderly couple meet up, embrace, and then enter ahead of me.

Upon arrival, there were several servers at the front doing various jobs, one of which took my coat, another took my name and then showed me to our table where my companions were already enjoying an artfully designed selection of homemade biscuits, cheesy puff-like things, green and blue fried pasta (if I heard correctly) and wee, thin, tall bread sticks, they were memorable for the design, if not the taste. We were on a bit of a tight schedule and so we had a perusal of the menu and all opted to go for the 3 course lunch special for £24.00 each (without wine pairings).

As the pickiest eater, I (generously, on the part of Edinburgh Foody and B) was given the choice of 3 starters, mains, and desserts. I chose the Brandade of salted North Sea cod, served with fondant potatoes; the poached fillet of North Sea Hake, served celery, potatoes, and a celeriac puree; and for B I ordered the Vanilla crème brûlée. (I’ll not go into what the others ordered, else I will just be repetitious)

granary and spelt breads
Before we the starters arrived, a server came around carrying a large curvaceous cork bark board filled with rows of sliced bread: white, granary, caramelised onion, sun dried tomato, and spelt. I chose a piece of the granary and spelt. A small dish of butter seemed to materialize from thin air and before we knew it, we were served tiny coffee cups of a carrot and coriander amuse bouche, with a light foam above it, covered with cumin crumble, which looked like dirt. The whole effect was magnificent and the tastes were so strong and clear that this was one of my favorite parts of the meal. 

Amuse bouche of carrot and coriander with a cumin crumble
Amuse bouche

Soon after, our starters arrived. B’s velouté of West Gate farm broccoli served with Dunsyre blue cheese ravioli, was interesting. The vibrant green velouté was poured on at the table. Edinburgh Foody’s Eel dish was flavoursome and intense. I love eel, but the jellied bit didn’t appeal to me — it’s a texture thing. My Brandade of cod was nicely presented. The traffic light plating had different squash pieces with an olive tapenade that directed my eye and fork nicely from one potato stuffed with the brandade to the other, stuffed and topped with crispy, tiny potato strings. I’ve never had brandade before, but I knew what it was. I was a bit wary of the possibility of brandade to go into the realm of oily and heavy, but this was light and not overpoweringly fishy. I even spread some on my spelt bread and nearly finished the rich starter.

Cod Brandade
Again, someone whizzed by and filled my glass and took away our plates. Before long, our mains arrived. I have to say that I tasted both other dishes, and I think I won. Not that they weren’t tasty, and well done, but I almost always go for the fish dish and my hake was light and well-cooked. The interesting lemon and lime marmalade that was glazed over the top of the hake cut into the creaminess of the celeriac and created a party in my mouth that made me look back in shock at the same (and more expensive, and pan-roasted) hake that was served to me the week prior at Café St. Honore. 

Poached Hake

Pork dish
Then came the bit of the menu I was not looking forward to: the dessert. I am not a sweet person (you may have heard B say that a time or two, but with me its true). I dutifully took photos and tapped on the well-executed sugar crust on the vanilla crème brûlée, but I did not taste it. I did, however, taste Edinburgh Foody’s mulled jelly and some sort of sorbet foam…it was a sugary hit of Christmas in my mouth… too sugary for my tastes, but she relished it and the skill that went into the dish was evident. 

vanilla crème brûlée


 
Then came the cheese tray; no, the cheese wagon. A server wheeled over a huge cart of cheese, with an array of chutneys, jelly squares, and other accoutrements. B chose 5 (with the help of Edinburgh Foody and the knowledgeable server) and they were arranged nicely and served with a few slices of bread and homemade oatcakes. If I ate cheese, I would be in heaven. The variety and obvious quality was apparent, and I did have an oatcake…and they were stunning… So much so, that I would love to go have a day and learn how to make them. I would buy the wee things by the box and live off them.

Actually, I probably could have been served the amuse bouche and the hake with a pile of oatcakes and I would have been as happy as possible.

Overall, Castle Terrace is good+ (as we say in the book world), but doesn't make it into my top restaurants in the world. The service was a tiny bit spotty (I had to wave at a server to get their attention to order, and we ended up paying on the way out), but they are terribly skilled in the kitchen and it is obvious in the quality of the dishes. I can’t pick too many holes in it at all, and God knows, I want to.

Mulled jelly dessert









Scores

Out of 20 Blythe gives Castle Terrace:
5/5 for food
5/5 for presentation
3/5 for setting
4/5 for service
giving an overall 17/20

Out of 20 Miriam gives Castle Terrace:
4/5 for food
5/5 for presentation
3/5 for setting
4/5 for service
giving an overall 16/20

Today’s Lunch Questers were: MJ, Danielle, Blythe.

We wore: Burgundy top with button bows, blue and green checked tie, heels (MJ not Blythe)!

We ate: carrot, coriander and cumin amuse bouche; broccoli veloute with Dunsyre blue ravioli, smoked eel with panna cotta and poached quails egg, cod brandade with fondant potatoes; hake with lime marmalade and celeriac, pork cheek, partridge on a bed of carrot and savoy cabbage; vanilla crème brulee, mulled wine jelly, cheeseboard.

We drank: sparkly water.

Total Bill: c.£90 (three course set lunch menu £24).

Castle Terrace Restaurant on Urbanspoon

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Union of Genius



Outside
Small but bustling

MJ's Verdict

Today I realized that maybe I moved to Leith a bit too soon. Ok, that’s not quite true (I rather enjoy living out of the centre), but I know that if I still lived on Forest Hill, I would be spending most of my lunchtimes walking down the wee street beside the Sandy Bell and crossing Forest Road, and popping into Union of Genius.

Perhaps I’m a bit biased. I have this raging dislike (hatred may be too strong a word, wait till later in the week and we shall see) for fussy food, and this small café that only serves soups is right up my alley. First of all, anyone whose first tweet to me wishes me luck on my PhD gets approval in my book. I need all the bloody luck I can get. Secondly, there are a lot of things to recommend this wee shop, aside from the 6 changing soups:

1.     They use locally sourced ingredients. Under this point we may include their use of altering breads from local Polworth bakery, Dough Re Mi; coffee from Artesan Roast Coffee, and The Chocolate Tree Hot Chocolates.

2.     They mark their soups in a friendly manner for picky eaters like myself: Vegan and Veggie. So I know which soups to avoid (creamy soups, or those with coconut…ew). (As an aside, I also appreciate the mayo being marked on Koyama’s menu)

3.     They use compostable packaging and will gladly compost it for you if you return it. And in doing so, you get a nice initial on your loyalty card. This is an interesting concept, and one I hope catches on.

4.     You get more than one piece of bread to go with the soups.

5.     They are just so darned nice. 


Happy to serve us soup!

Ok, so all that being laid out in an orderly fashion, on to the food. I had the minestrone soup (vegan) and it was tasty. Made with wee pasta balls and hearty chunks of vegetables that were not blitzed into oblivion, as is the usual way here in Europe (I’m pretty sure I didn’t encounter a blended veggie soup till I moved here; where I’m from, we like out vegetables chunky in soup or battered and deep fried). The soup was good. It had the right amount of seasoning and the olive bread that was recommended was a good accompaniment in the Italian theme of my lunch, but didn’t blow my socks off. Peter’s Yard still gets my bread-bakers-deliciousness award. 

Minestrone 1/2 eaten with olive bread
The coffees were reasonably priced (£1.80 for a good sized americano) and from good Artisan Roast beans. Everyone finished theirs, so I assume they were also relatively pleased.


Everyone seemed to really enjoy their soups; I’ll be checking up with UoG on Facebook to find out what each day holds as they get through their first days and hit their stride, right in time for winter.

p.s. they have free wifi. I tweeted a photo of the shop right before I went in. 


Angus's Verdict

Calde Verde (Chorizo and Kale)
 
First choice on the extensive soup board (6 if I recall) was Chorizo & Kale. I suspect it’s a childhood memory, but I always associate kale with enjoyable Saturday morning walks alongside kale fields with a crunchy hard frost and a weak winter sun low in the sky, and for that reason alone this soup had to be tried. Chorizo & Kale is a perfect combination of Mediterranean and Scottish, and the spicy and “meatiness” of the Chorizo really permeates the soup, which when combined with kale (which is a properly serious bit of Scottish greenery), makes for a full bodied soup – not heavyweight or stodgy, but full of flavour and chunkiness. Would I have this soup again, yes, definitely.


The bread (which comes in the price) came in a variety of types and I had the eight seed bread, which came in two decent sized slices and was a tasty, chunky and seedy (in a good way), being covered in poppy seeds. To finish I had white hot chocolate with cardamom, which tasted like Christmas had come early. I am no big fan of hot chocolate, preferring the sharper taste of coffee or tea in my milky drinks, but this was light, warm, milky and spicy and very pleasant. If I was passing Union of Genius on one of those cold winter mornings I mentioned earlier (fruitlessly searching for frosted kale on the Middle Meadow Walk?) then I would definitely stop in for another of these.




Mel's Verdict

I like soup. I have it nearly every day for my lunch in winter so I was more than happy to accompany Blythe, Miriam and Angus to Union of Genius, a new soup café that opened on Forrest Road. I was impressed by the choice of soup on offer - about 6 different flavours in total - the majority of which where either vegetarian or vegan which was nice to see. I was tempted to get the lentil, but in the end chose the minestrone which came with some lovely soft brown olive bread.

  
Minestrone, up close and personal

The soup itself was what you would expect from a minestrone; hearty, tasty and packed full of veg, but an interesting difference was having little beads of pasta scattered throughout it rather than having the small strands of spaghetti in it like I’m used to. This reminded me of pearl barley and made the soup seem even more comforting so it was a winner with me. I would definitely get it again but at £3.80 a go for a large portion (including the bread) it’s not something I could do everyday, but it would be nice as a monthly treat.

We were lucky to get seats around the only table in the café so we took advantage of the situation and ordered drinks. I went for a cappuccino and when she brought it over the owner apologised for not having any chocolate sprinkles to put on the top as it was their first day of trading. This did make the top of the coffee look a bit bare and the froth look a bit more foam-like than normal but the coffee itself tasted fine and was a nice end to a lovely lunch.

Cappuccino

What really made this place stand out for me among all the other soup and sandwich places in the area though is its recycling policy. All the cups, bowls, lids, bags and cutlery are compostable so if you take the packaging back to the shop they will make sure it gets disposed of correctly. I really like this idea- we have recycle bins at my work but I know a lot of other places don’t so it’s a great way of encouraging people to think about their waste. And every time you take your packaging back you get your loyalty card stamped which you can then trade in for a free coffee when it’s full- so I hope by the time my cards full they’ll have invested in some chocolate sprinkles to cover my free cappuccino with!

Blythe's Verdict
Freshly opened today, Union of Genius is “Scotland’s first soup café”. Located on Forrest Road, on the same side as sushi favourite Koyama, it brings together a “souper-group” of local producers to provide punters with much wholesome soupy goodness, along with lovely cakes from Love Pure Cakes, and stand-out hot chocolate from The Chocolate Tree.

Now, I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned this, but I rather like soup. In fact, I’m working on structural ideas for a Lunch Quest: Soupy Soup League Table. The whole idea of a café dedicated to soup fills me with a huge amount of happiness. So it was with considerable delight that I set forth for Forrest Road. On my way, I was joined by my former Widget-Adviser-in-Chief, Angus, who had filed a lovely review from Bath for LQ: Roving Reporters, last week. When we arrived, we were greeted by special guest, Mel, and the ever-prompt MJ.

First things first: Union of Genius is wee. It has one window table, which could seat around six, with an additional shelf area for another two folk. So, you need to time it perfectly to secure a seat. Upon arrival, we found the seats taken, so made a quick plan for which locality we would repair to for a spot of al fresco souping, as we queued. We were delighted to see esteemed friend of Lunch Quest, Tony, two places in front of us in the queue, making similar plans.

The staff were extremely welcoming, and though they spoke of first day nerves and a mild sense of chaos, they served us accurately and with a sound knowledge of what they were all about. Each bowl of soup comes with two generous slices of bread. On a recommendation, I matched my cream of wild mushroom soup (from a choice of six options) with an olive bread (from the selection of four different breads).

Cream of mushroom soup

In a rare union of timing genius, as MJ completed ordering procession of ordering, the window table freed up. We were delighted to plonk ourselves down. This meant that we had the take away bowls and cutlery, instead of crockery, but we were more than happy with this arrangement. This also meant that the return of our packaging for composting (all materials are compostable and they encourage you to return them, so this can be turned in to a reality) was all the easier.


I was extremely pleased with my soup. I cook mushroom soup a fair amount, and I thought this was an excellent example. The olive bread worked very well as an accompaniment, so kudos to the recommendation. It was still not quite as good as the soup from the , but a solid match for the soups at The Mulroy and The Bonham.

With soup consumed, we turned our attention to coffees. I opted to try the Genius Mocha. It was a rich, dark treat, with a truly joyful depth of flavour.

Overall, Union of Genius is an excellent addition to the lunch circuit. Given its compact size, it’s more likely to be a take away stop, but I’d be delighted to wolf down a bowl of their hearty fare at my desk. Despite their first day nerves, I don’t think they have many issues to iron-out. I’m happy to recommend that you head along to sample their soupy delights, at your earliest convenience.





Scores

Out of 20 MJ scores Union of Genius:
4/5 for food
4/5 for presentation
5/5 for service
4/5 for setting
giving an overall 17/20

Out of 20 Angus scores Union of Genius:
5/5 for food
5/5 for presentation
5/5 for service
5/5 for setting
giving an overall 20/20

Out of 20 Mel scores Union of Genius:
5/5 for food
3/5 for presentation
4/5 for service
3/5 for setting
giving an overall 15/20

Out of 20 Blythe scores Union of Genius:
4/5 for food
3/5 for presentation
4/5 for service
4/5 for setting
giving an overall 15/20

Today’s Lunch Questers were: Miriam, Mel, Angus, Blythe

We wore: Beard, green top with diamante detailing, stripey trousers, high performance action

We ate: Minestrone (2), Chorizo and Kale, and Cream of Wild Mushroom soups

We drank: Americano, Cappuccino, White Hot Chocolate and Cardamom, Genius Mocha

Total Bill: c.£25 (soups £4 for large bowl; coffees/hot chocolates £1.80-3)


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