RSS

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.

Showing posts with label French. Show all posts
Showing posts with label French. Show all posts

Cafe Marlayne

Blythe’s Verdict
Café Marlayne has been a Thistle Street staple throughout the 2000s, attracting high praise from many of its customers. Around a year ago, they expanded their operation, opening a second outlet on Antigua Street, in much bigger premises than the intimate Thistle Street surroundings.

The first thing I noticed, once I'd taken in the full extent of the place, is that it's very much a "two-in-one". The front half is a café, offering a relaxed atmosphere and seating to match, while the back room is a bright bistro.

I was prompt, as MJ has conditioned me in to being, and had a moment to survey matters. Christmas had broken out, it being 1 December, with some nicely understated trimmings giving touches of festive cheer. The bistro room is a little strange. While it is simply appointed in white, with clusters of artwork on the walls, it has the feel of a back-room bistro that you might find attached to a village pub. It’s the kind of room that could turn its hand to many things, perhaps doubling as the place you'd hold local fundraisers, when the kitchen isn’t serving posh nosh. This sense of flexibility could be used as a strength, but I’m not sure things are quite optimal, as they stand.

The kitchen sort of pours out of the door, in a slightly curious fashion. Where I was seated I had a full view of everything that was going on, and I didn’t personally feel it added much to my enjoyment of things.


As I pondered, bread arrived, as did water, then some hand-written menus, and soon I was joined by my dining companion, Jane, who previously quested with us at Leith Lynx.

Both Jane and I agreed that the bread was tasty, as we contemplated our menu choices. Jane opted for the chef’s salad followed by trout, while I went for soup then lamb.

Our starters arrived promptly, as a large party of early Christmas revellers took up residence at big table, next to ours.


My soup, a blend of butternut squash, sweet potato and coconut was very good. It lacked an extra dimension to elevate it beyond that, but was a really well-judged marriage of flavours. I was very pleased with it. This was all looking very good.

Then we sat for an extremely long time before our main courses arrived. Of course, the attention of the staff was taken up by the patrons at the big table, but a good deal of the time, the staff seemed almost entirely absent, presumably tending to the needs of customers in the front café.

Over the coming Christmas madness, service is likely to be a little less than perfect in a lot of places, so I had some sympathy for the staff, as this was the first day of the advent season, and I’m sure they’ll iron out most the kinks, in the coming days.


When the main courses arrived, they were excellent. I tasted a little of Jane’s trout, and it was lovely. My two chunky pieces of lamb were very soft and tender, deeply flavourful and extremely satisfying. For me, the dish could have used a bigger dollop of yoghurt, but that’s my inner honorary Istanbulian talking. The herb dressing was packed with flavour. A plate of vegetables, for us to share, were simply prepared and provided solid accompaniment.


With service having taken a considerable length of time, Jane had to bolt back to work, as soon as she'd finished her trout, as she was constrained by the strict application of the “lunch hour”, while I had time to digest things, and finish with a little espresso.


Overall, the quality of the food was excellent. My main course was one of the best I’ve eaten, of late. However, the service we received wasn’t good. I’m sure the start of the festive season explains this, at least in part, but the venue’s split configuration, and their choice to have staff managing service across both parts of the place, doesn’t lend itself to good service, as far as I could see. If you’re looking for a quick, business lunch, I don’t think this is the place for you – I’m not sure that’s a market they’re targeting, either. On a relaxed afternoon, with a nice glass of wine, I can think of nothing better than letting the world drift by while extremely tasty dishes sporadically appear, so when that’s what you have on your agenda, I’d recommend you pay Café Marlayne a visit.

Jane’s Verdict
I started with the salade du chef, which today comprised endives, mushroom, bacon and gruyere, with a drizzle of mustard. It was very tasty, with a perfect balance of salty smoky bacon with sweet mushroom and gruyere. Personally, I could have lived without the mustard, but that’s just me.


My fillet of trout with capers and pine nuts and a beurre noisette was perfectly cooked, with nicely crisped skin, but not too crispy, and again a nice balance of salty capers and sweeter pine nuts. There was a good contrast between softness and crunch. Yum!


There was big gap between starter and main, so points off for service, but overall it was all very tasty.

Scores
Blythe scores Café Marlayne:
4/5 for food
4/5 for presentation
2/5 for service
3/5 for setting
giving an overall 13/20

Jane scores Café Marlayne:
4/5 for food
4/5 for presentation
2/5 for service
4/5 for setting
giving an overall 14/20

Today’s lunch questers were: Jane, Blythe

We ate: squash, sweet potato and coconut soup, chef’s salad, trout in beurre noisette, lamb rump with yoghurt and herb dressing

We drank: water, espresso

We wore: chic black, lilac shirt and tie

Total bill: c.£25

Cafe Marlayne on Urbanspoon

  • Digg
  • Del.icio.us
  • StumbleUpon
  • Reddit
  • RSS

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

  • Digg
  • Del.icio.us
  • StumbleUpon
  • Reddit
  • RSS

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

  • Digg
  • Del.icio.us
  • StumbleUpon
  • Reddit
  • RSS

Café St. Honoré

the cafe on Thistle Street

The interior

Blythe’s Verdict
Café St Honoré has been on our hit list for a while, so when we saw it was part of the deal, we booked, immediately. I know that MJ has developed a little intolerance from French style cuisine, but I was optimistic that the Thistle Street region could once more melt her negative preconceptions, as it had done last week.
We were joined by special guests, today, in the shape of MJ’s flatmate, Rachel (who has previously joined us in Divino) and Jemma from Jemma Eat World, one of our favourite Edinburgh food blogs

nice bread for the table

Under the expert guidance of Chef Neil Forbes, Café St Honoré has developed quite a reputation for stylish and elegant dishes, showcasing excellent locally sourced ingredients. The place has a stylish feel to it, as you walk in, although I must say that I found the atmosphere of the place a little subdued.
I was quickly seated at a table in their main dining area, joining the ever prompt MJ and Rachel. Jemma soon arrived, right on schedule. An excellent basket of warm bread prefaced the arrival of the starters.



After consulting the menu, I opted to start with the roast pumpkin soup with sage cream, and follow it with the whole grilled plaice with caper beurre noisette.
We gaily chatted about a range of intriguing topics, as our starters arrived. I was very pleased with my soup. It was smooth and packed with flavour. The sage cream was very subtle, but provided a nice herby note to accentuate the dish. In my soup league table (I think this may be an addition to the site, in the near future), it would sit in the same region as the celeriac soup from The Mulroy and the parsnip soup from The Bonham, but still a notch or two behind the cauliflower soup from the .

soup


The main course of plaice was an elegant dish. The fish was perfectly cooked, with rich flakes of white fish nicely accompanied by peppery salad leaves. The caper beurre noisette wasn’t quite as piquant as I was expecting, but that was no bad thing as it worked very nicely with the accompanying potatoes. It was a well-executed dish.

Plaice (sorry it's a bit blurry)

Good coffees followed to round out a nice lunch, and we were left to ponder our verdict. I found this more of a challenge than I usually do. The food was very good, stylishly presented, with quietly accurate service, in an understated but smart setting. But I found the atmosphere stand-offish, somehow. We were having some hilarious chatter, but such jollity didn’t seem to fit with the surroundings. This could be a symptom of a quiet lunchtime service, but we’ve eaten in places with many fewer people and not felt this. It’s not a useful criticism, I concede, but there was something amiss with the “intangibles” of the place.
Overall, though, I can’t argue with the quality of the food on offer, so I’d recommend you make a visit, soon. When you do, I hope you find the place imbued with a slightly livelier spirit than we found on our visit.


MJ's Verdict
Today we went to Café St. Honoré on the Yelp! Eat locally promotion, where local restaurants give the option of a special 2 course meal (with choices of 2 starters, mains, and desserts). My lovely flat mate and I got a bit overzealous and made it to the Thistle Street Lane a good fifteen minutes early, but Café St. Honoré was ready for us and kindly took our jackets and brought us drinks.

I mentioned this before, but I shall again: I strongly dislike French food. Not all French food, mind, but the fussy overly ornate stuff I really do not like. I’d prefer the rustic versions of anything…any day.

That being said, lunch today with its limited menu (which I checked out online) was kinda my idea of lunch hell. Nonetheless, we soldiered on. I kept a hold of the regular lunch menu, which wonderfully offered combinations and choices for a variety of prices (even if the a la carte dishes were a bit pricey). When B and our guest Jemma Eats arrived, we all ordered. Soon after, they brought out a basket of warm, whole grain rye bread (of a percentage) and slices of a white country bread.

Game Terrine
Inside the Terrine

True to form, I digressed from the rest and went for the hake with potatoes and purple sprouting broccoli, and sat patiently while everyone’s starters arrived. When the 2 game terrines arrived, wrapped in bacon and served with a smattering of red onion jam on top, my Flatmate and Jemma waited patiently while I took photos in the awkward light. The consensus was ‘nice’ (and that it probably wouldn’t go past that). B said the soup was grand and fit in nicely next to the one at the Mulroy (I have an eye on his soup-o-metre as a gauge of restaurants).

For the mains, Jemma chose the Braised Scottish Pork Belly, Mashed Potato, and Apple Sauce. She said it too was, ‘nice’, if I remember correctly. Ok, I seem to have this happen a lot. I had food envy. B and my flatmate both went for the grilled whole east coast plaice with caper beurre noisette. The fish was huge! Lovely and de-skinned, served with wee potatoes and such. And then my hake… Ok, it may be a more expensive fish. But my small portion (not that it was too small, but for the price, I felt short changed in comparison) made me look at it sadly. Really REALLY sadly. The fish itself was tasty, but nothing truly special and the potatoes and 3 bits of purple sprouting broccoli were just…disappointing. I think I ordered poorly.

Hake

The plaice, was well cooked, but got a bit boring after getting halfway through the large portion.

We followed with Artesan Roast coffees and espressos. They were lovely and uniquely served with a bit of tablet.

Overall, it seems that the expectations were set a bit too high before we even walked in. And though I thought it was ok, I won’t rush back, but to be honest, the only French restaurant I’ve ever willingly returned to (or gone to, mostly) has been Chez Jules—they have killer mussels.



Jemma's Verdict
The starter (game terrine) was nice and meaty. I had a bit of trouble eating the salad, I always have trouble eating the salad though. It was very rich, and quite a big portion so quite hard to finish.

Terrine

The main, pork belly, was tender on the inside and crisp and flavoursome on the outside. The mash was nice and creamy and there was just enough of the lovely tangy apple sauce. Couldn't really fault it, although the impossible to eat salad made an appearance again!

Pork Belly with Applesauce and mash


Scores

Out of 20 MJ gives Café St Honoré:

3/5 for food
3/5 for presentation
3/5 for service
3/5 for setting
giving an overall 12/20

Out of 20 Blythe gives Café St Honoré:

4/5 for food
4/5 for presentation
3/5 for service
3/5 for setting
giving an overall 14/20

Out of 20 Jemma gives Café St Honoré:

4/5 for food
4/5 for presentation
3/5 for service
4/5 for setting
giving an overall 15/20

Today’s Lunch Questers were: MJ, Jemma, Rachel, Blythe

We wore: Stylish blue/green and pink scarf, Quarter-horse Association jacket, black dress with dogtooth check detailing, black socks with green spots.

We ate: Game terrine with red onion jam, whole grilled plaice, hake with seasonal vegetables, braised pork belly

We drank: Sparkly water, coke, coffees

Total Bill: £80 (part of the Deal)

Cafe St Honoré on Urbanspoon

  • Digg
  • Del.icio.us
  • StumbleUpon
  • Reddit
  • RSS

Dinner at The Mulroy

We reviewed The Mulroy, a few weeks ago. When LQ: Istanbul's Patrick indicated his availability for Friday evening dining, this seemed like the ideal opportunity to introduce him to Edinburgh's finest new restaurant gem.


We began with a little rabbit terrine amuse bouche. It was most amoozn.

Patrick opened with a ravioli nero of langoustine. He described as exquisitely good and one of the interesting dishes he'd been presented with for many a day.


I stuck with my usual soup, being served a tomato, basil and fennel soup that proved to be delicious, accurately seasoned and highly satisfying. It was with a little side dish of aioli, for which little dipping toasts were provided.


Torn between the venison and lamb, Patrick eventually settled upon the venison. It looked marvellous and was described in terms of the highest approbation.


My sea bass was superbly superb. The orange reduction, heavily laced with avruga caviar was a firecracker accompaniment to the beautifully cooked fish.


We took recommendations on the accompanying wine from patron Clemens, both of which proved acutely observed.

With welcoming service and beautiful surroundings, as per our previous visit, we both thought that was enough culinary merriment for one night. We accepted the offer of a cursory glance at the dessert menu.

I knew Patrick was in trouble, particularly when the waiter said that the creme brulee was his current particular favourite, and sure enough Patrick couldn't resist.


Nor could I with the cheese board.


A pleasing coffee pot rounded things off, and concluded what had been a gloriously entertaining couple of hours.

I'm slightly reticent to score the same place twice in such a short space of time, but given that we were sampling from the evening menu, and Patrick was fairly adamant in his reckonining of the place's merits, you can see our numerical opinion, below.

Overall, The Mulroy confirmed our initial view and then some. It's a startlingly good place. Their menu gives you headaches, as every dish sounds just as tempting as the others. Visit soon, let it weave its spell, then revisit often.

Scores

Patrick scores The Mulroy
5/5 for food
5/5 for presentation
5/5 for service
5/5 for setting
Giving an overall 20/20

Blythe scores The Mulroy
5/5 for food
4/5 for presentation
4/5 for service
5/5 for setting
Giving an overall 18/20

Today's late lunch questers were: Patrick, Blythe

We ate: soup, langoustine ravioli, sea bass, venison, creme brulee, cheese, petit fours.

We drank: sparkly water, wine, coffee

We wore: Cheshire cat smiles

Total bill: c.£100

Mulroy on Urbanspoon

  • Digg
  • Del.icio.us
  • StumbleUpon
  • Reddit
  • RSS