All the way through my distinctly average meal I wished I was back in the Bon Vivant.

So when we were looking for a special place for a Monday night dinner, it was no wonder that the Bon Vivant crossed my mind.

Let’s start with the ambience. Dark. Intimate. Very French. You order tap water, and it arrives in a vintage booze bottle. The staff swing by every so often to top up your glass. There are vintage French champagne ads framed on the wall.

The food menu seems to change daily, and has a selection of tapa-like light bites and bigger meals for those Hungry Horaces like myself. They’re all reasonably priced: bites coming in at £1 and mains at roughly £12.

Doesn't look like a butt to me!

We both quickly settled on the pork butts (lol butts lol) with dauphinoise potatoes, black pudding and cabbage. As we giggled away like Beavis and Butthead, our waiter informed us that “pork butts” is a term for shoulder and has nothing to do with bottoms at all.

This was very attractively presented, and the dauphinoise potatoes were amongst the best I’ve ever had (although none can compare to my mother’s!). The cabbage was garnished with some lovely fresh peppers. Unfortunately I wasn’t very keen on the pork, as the texture was a little too reminiscent of tinned tuna for me. Everything else was perfect.

Still hungry, we asked to see the dessert menu. Again brilliantly priced, James grabbed a slice of chocolate torte and I was delighted to see one of my favourite combinations: rhubarb and white chocolate mousse.

Torte-ally awesome

I haven’t a clue what the torte tasted like, as my charming boy inhaled it.

My dessert looked amazing: like the bannoffee creation I munched on at Mark Greenaway earlier this year. The difference was that this was a sixth of the price. And far, far tastier. Oh the rhubarb jelly! The candied strips! The sticky-sweet chocolate mousse! I would have licked the plate clean if nobody was watching. Hell, I’d have licked someone else’s plate clean if they’d left it unattended.

Look at the pretty!

Although I wasn’t too keen on my main, it was still heads and shoulders above Café St Honore. I heard a couple of businessmen mentioning to a loitering sommelier that they were heading there for dinner, making the same mistake I had. I almost went over and told them to ditch it and stay put.

I’ll deffo be going back for another visit. The only thing that would put me off recommending the Bon Vivant for a midweek supper is the price of wine: more than double that of a main course.

But you’re pretty much guaranteed an amazing bottle, and the food is so good you’re unlikely to notice.

Plus, it’s a school night. Shouldn’t you be on the tap water?

This review was written for the May issue of Bite Magazine: which can be picked up at all good local delis, cafés and restaurants from today. Alternatively you can download a PDF from their website.

Keep an eye out for this sunny little fellow

Sandwiched between Lothian Road and the Pubic Triangle, until now Bread Street wouldn’t be my first area of choice for a glam night out. Once I stepped into the marble lobby of The Point Hotel, however, all notion of time and space disappeared. Both the Bread Street Brasserie and accompanying Monboddo bar have a distinct George Street vibe.

I met with my friend and fellow blogger Little LB for a midweek girly catch up, and after settling on a bottle of pinot grigio we soon got down to the business of stuffing our faces.

Mussels from the Bread Street Brasserie

To start I simply couldn’t resist the mussels with cream, white wine, garlic and almonds (£6.99). The sauce coated the plump, coral mussels well, and the almonds were a pleasant addition. Although the dish was enjoyable, for me it lacked that essential component: some crusty bread for dunking.

LB’s generous portion of baked smoked Scottish Cheddar rarebit (£5.99) was pronounced as “nice, and really cheesy: but that’s to be expected”.

Pulled Pork Bun... Yum!

As a carb lover it’s a no brainer that I would choose my main from the Comfort Food section of the menu. I decided to be a right piggy and ordered the pulled pork marinated in beer, mustard and worcestershire sauce served in a bun with sauerkraut (£9.95). Days later I can’t stop thinking about the flavours and textures. This bun was a triumph.

The pork itself was meltingly tender, and hints of creamy fat gave it an indulgent richness. The marinade had been fully absorbed by the meat and provided a tangy, aromatic kick that didn’t overpower. The accompanying chips with sweet tomato relish were the perfect foil for the soft bun and softer pork. It was comfort food in every sense.

LB’s braised pig cheeks with apples, vegetables, tarragon dumpling and rumbledethump (£14.95) were also impressive: the meat, again, tender and the accompaniments well judged. A silence descended upon the table as we made it our mission to clear our plates: despite being stuffed. “I’m full, but it’s so good I don’t want to leave any” lamented LB.

The Famous LB!

Unfortunately this meant neither of us had room for dessert: although the warm pear, almond and amaretto tartlet (£3.95) and dark belgian chocolate parfait with cream chantilly and caramelised banana (£3.95) may be cause for a return visit.

Tanjore  do a range of lunchtime tapas. Tapas and Indian food are two of my favourite things, and one of my favourite bandwagons. Speaking of bandwagons, I recently found out that a certain dynamic duo of the Edinburgh food blogging scene have composed a jingle about Indian tapas: look out for the viral video on a YouTube near you soon!

So on Good Friday I jumped in my car to meet my lovely boyfriend for a bite to eat: it’s what Jesus would have wanted, I’m sure. After a few cash machine mishaps,  we finally got our hands on some cold hard dough and wandered into the cosy South Indian café, not really sure what to expect.

The décor was nothing outstanding: typical canteen style. I almost rubbed my hands together with glee: this would be good. If I’ve learned one thing during my time as a food blogger, it’s that the blander the décor the scrummier the scran.

As James had to go back into the office, and I’m *ahem* watching my figure, we decided to get four things and share them. For some reason I didn’t order anything meaty, perhaps I’m turning vegetarian? My choices were mixed veg bhaji and a masala dosai: a thin pancake stuffed with potato, onion, peas and spices.

James ordered sambar idli (dumplings in a lentil broth) and fish curry.

Pakora Pakora!

The bhajis arrived with a lovely coconut chutney. They were crisp and tasty, with a good spicy kick to them. I have a serious love for aubergine at the moment, so I was glad to see some of my favourite veg in the mix. I had to shout at James at this point because, for some reason, he was eating only with his fork and not his knife. Like some kind of cave man.

Honestly I can’t take him anywhere.

Sambar Idli

I’d forgotten what James had ordered so I wasn’t quite sure what the sambar idli was. In fact I thought it was the fish curry, and when I bit into a squidgy dough ball I thought “that’s a peculiar texture”. I don’t think I would order it again, as despite the heat of the lentil sauce, the balls themselves were a wee bit too bland.

Once our first two dishes were scoffed, our waitress brought the rest. We were probably supposed to pace ourselves… oops!

My first Dosai

The dosai was amazing! I wasn’t sure how to go about eating it, as the wrapper was so thin and fragile I didn’t want to just pick it up and eat it like a burrito. I attacked it with the knife and fork, and it was absolutely perfect. The filling cooked to a nice squidgy texture with a tongue tingling combo of curry spices. It reminded me of the tastiest samosa ever. I could eat this all day, yum yum yum.

Fishy curry

Finally, the fish curry. This was a pretty stand up dish, I must say. The spicy sauce clashed in the best way possible with the flaky, salty, smoked fish, assaulting the mouth and nasal passages with a delightful combination of aromas and flavours. I loved the way that the residual curry heat was quietened down by the big salty, smokey flavours of the fish.

As we walked back towards town (and my hastily parked car) I felt the most pleasant warmth in my mouth: it wasn’t burning, but the tingle reminded me that I’d just enjoyed a very well judged Indian lunch. And I wasn’t full to bursting, either.

While your heart is being broken by these drama causing vagabonds you vent to a friend. Someone who’s always kind of there, in the background. You’ve never looked at them sexually: until one day, it clicks.

They’re amazing. You’re meant to be together forever.

Then you hook up and forget to call them, because someone more exciting has arrived on the scene. Someone who says they can offer you adventure, new experiences, romance. Of course, they’re just like the rest of them. At first it’s great but they make promises that they fail to deliver on and you’re left hurt and alone.

After another series of disasters, you’ll inevitably find yourself back in the arms of your friend, pledging this time that you’ll never forget how well they treat you and that you’ll never let them go.
But we’ve all been there: of course you will.

You’ll run off with the next coquet who flexes his muscles in your direction.

You sicken me.

And when they inevitably break your heart, who will be there to pick up the pieces? Your good old FWB. Your booty call. That sensitive, wonderful person straddling the line between friend zone and lover.

You might be wondering what, if anything, this has to do with an Italian restaurant in Edinburgh.

Well,  ladies and gentlemen, if your good natured “friend with benefits” could morph into a restaurant, he or she would be Taste of Italy.

Taste of Italy is always there: perfectly situated in the Pink Triangle just along from the Omni Center. Their food is delicious, not to mention cheap. It’s owned by the Crolla’s (Edinburgh’s foremost Italian culinary family) so it comes from a great pedigree. It’s got a relaxed atmosphere, a lovely variety of freshly prepared dishes, AMAZING CAKES, big caraffes of cheap wine, and they play Italian MTV in the background. Could you ask for anything more?

Borderline orgasmic profiterole cheesecake

I’ve been to Taste of Italy three times: every time was for convenience, and every time I thought it was awesome and left wholly satisfied. Once it was actually to cheer myself up after a disappointing dining experience further up the road.

So if their pizzas, pastas, wines and cakes are so good, how come it’s not my first suggestion for a place to eat?  How come I don’t get down on one knee and put a ring on it?

Because ladies and gentlemen. Taste of Italy is the perfect booty call. 

It seems I’m not alone in this crude line of thinking. Here’s what Edinburgh Lunch Quest had to say:

@JemmaEatWorld @mj801 I was there yesterday. It's a place for a "quickie" more than a spot to spend the evening, but I liked it, muchly ;-)

April 27, 2012 10:11 am via Twitter for BlackBerry®ReplyRetweetFavorite

@Lunchquest

BKR

So it’s with great, great pleasure that I award Taste of Italy the inaugural “I’d tap that” award for Best ‘Foody’ Call.

So if you guys from Taste of Italy fancy embedding this on your blog (and why wouldn’t you, with such an honour?) here’s the embed code.

Now get over here you sexy thing, and bring me a margherita pizza with extra garlic and mozzarella!

As this was my first time meeting many of the Geeks, I was really very nervous as I stepped out of the lift; especially when I had to tell the smartly dressed maitré d “Hello! I’m here to be a Geek!”. There was no reason to be nervous, however; he was all smiles as he led me to the lounge area and handed me a glass of very tasty champagne.

This  was probably one of the longest dinners I’ve ever had: starting at 7:30pm and ending at 11:30pm. But the evening whipped by in a flurry of good food and great company. The oysters, the tasting menu, the wine… for me it was perfect. I really enjoyed the second course of sous vide pigeon; somewhere between warm and cold, and at the perfect temperature to really appreciate the delicate, juicy meat.

Of course, the passion fruit gel on the dessert platter captivated my imagination too; it looked and acted like egg yolk, moving around the plate happily until pierced with a fork when vibrantly yellow and tangy insides spilled out.

For me the only aspects that didn’t work were the halibut (I thought it was a little bland) and the aerated chocolate (just a poncy way of saying Aero, no?). What surprised me was how full I was afterwards, even although the portions were dainty and I had skipped lunch that afternoon.

To see what the other Geeks thought, head over the the Total Food Geeks website. As far as I’m concerned, it blew 21212 and Mark Greenaway out of the water.

Image credit: Uproxx

I reckon the best thing about having a Royal Family is all the extra bank holidays we get. Last year it was the Royal Wedding (and a trip to Brussels for James and me) and this year it’s the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee. Although last year I was a little cynical about the whole Royal thing, this year I’m actually thinking it could be fun to have wee soiree in the street.

Nobody does street parties like Edinburgh. And it would be the ideal way to get to know my neighbours: the faceless people who hold doors open for me in the corridor, or who post a letters through saying things like “terribly sorry, but one of our socks has fallen off our balcony onto yours. Can we have it back?”

I’m not sure if my neighbours would agree with me. Tensions have been running high since a controversial parking scheme was introduced. I wouldn’t want to risk my trestle tables getting a ticket from an over enthusiastic parking warden!

If I did live on a street that was taking part in the Big Jubilee Lunch, here’s what I’d bring to the table.

Coronation Chicken Sambos

Image Credit: BBC Food

It may inspire the boak in many people (myself included) but Coronation chicken was designed especially for the Queen’s, well, coronation. Forget the nasty fluorescent stuff you buy pre-made in the not-so-supermarket, and whip up your own. I like this recipe by the Hairy Bikers as it’s just a wee bit more special.  With mango, white wine, and toasted almonds it truly is a sarnie filling fit for a Queen. I’d probably serve it in a nice toasted pitta bread, though, rather than traditional white pan triangles.

Antipodean Lemonade Scones

Image Credit: EatingThoseWords.com

This month’s Total Food Geeks theme was experiments: and I just  fell in love with Emma-Louise’s light zingy lemonade scone recipe.  I don’t think there’s anything more quintessentially British than a fresh home made scone with lashings of jam and cream, is there? For my street party table, this recipe ticks all the boxes: because it’s  Australian in origin, and our Queen is their Queen too.  I’ve seen some awesome vintage cake stands kicking about Stockbridge’s charity shops.

Royal-Tea

Image credit: Me! (I still use this mug at work)

It’s not all about Liz though, is it? She’s the matriarch of a great Royal Family, and I reckon there’s no better way to celebrate  her legacy than by having a nice pot of Twinings Royal Wedding Blend Tea on your street party table. James sent me a sample of this as a joke last year and it’s actually really tasty.

I remember drinking it and wishing that it wasn’t a special edition because I’d happily add it to my shopping list year round. The tea has a nice rosey floral hint: perfect for a summer’s day of partying with your neighbours. You can always buy tea online if you don’t want the embarrassment of strolling up to the Tesco clerk with this particular commemorative blend.

Of course for those of you who like your drinks a little harder, there’s always Earl Grey gin… perhaps that’s one to suggest over on Twinings Facebook as a special Diamond Jubilee infusion.

Haggis & Black Pudding Baws

Image credit: me! (haggis baws from Red Skye bistro)

Well I am Scottish after all! Although our current Royal Family are of German ancestry, I think a lot of people forget that the Union of the Crowns happened when the English Royal Family died out and had to borrow our Scottish King, James VI. In honour of James and Scotland’s role in the empire, I reckon some of these beauties would be gracing my table.

For me these were the standout snack at the Steak launch. I’d imagine they aren’t too difficult to make (though I wouldn’t be surprised if Mark Greenaway had a crazy recipe up his sleeve).  To make a bumper batch I’d take one haggis, one black pudding, mix them together in a bowl and form into balls. Flour, egg wash, breadcrumbs, deep fry, done. To be served with a Gold Star brown sauce dip.

ABTs

Image credit: Me!

I have no way to tie this back to the Diamond Jubilee. All I can say is that it ain’t a party without ABTs!

What do you think? Do you think my choice of lunchy munchies are good? What would you bring to the table?

Perhaps we could adopt a street in Edinburgh and have a right royal foodie celebration

Image credit: BBC

Normally I don’t use this blog to rant about companies that annoy me (ah who am I kidding, give me a soapbox and I’m jumping on with both feet).  However today I got some customer service from One Parliament Square that was so bad it actually made me laugh out loud. It also made me turn a bit red, because I don’t enjoy being talked down to or spoken to dismissively.

But then I thought “I can’t keep this comedic gold to myself!”

So since I have a wee soapbox, I thought I’d share my email correspondence with One Parliament Square on here: just in case any of you are looking for a group apartment in Edinburgh and want to make sure that you’re going to be looked after by someone who is a true people person.

—————————————————————————————–

To: info@oneparliamentsquare.com
From: Jemma

Hi, I just wanted to make an enquiry about the
above dates.

I’m planning a low key hen night for my best friend this June. We’d
have around 12 people, although my numbers aren’t confirmed yet. I was
wondering if you could answer a couple of questions for me?

- First, is the apartment available for these days?
- How much will it cost? Will this be per person or per night?
- Would I be able to pop in for a visit to make sure that it’s the
kind of thing we’re looking for?

I think that’s all my questions just now as I’m still looking through
a number of options.

If you could get back to me on [my email address] or call me on
[my ring ding] that would be fabulous.

Thanks,

Jemma

—————————————————————————————–

To: Jemma
From: Brenda Fawlty

Sorry, booked

—————————————————————————————–

To: Brenda Fawlty
From: Jemma

Thanks for your swift reply, Brenda. Your brevity is at a level that I can only hope to  reach one day.

—————————————————————————————–

Do you teach Customer Service 101 at the local hospitality college, Brenda? Or are you just a big fan of Basil Fawlty?

I was pretty stumped at first, as I’m a rather conservative young lady in the kitchen. Over the weekend I freaked out because I was in a house with no measuring scales and I had no clue whether or not my Fabulous Baker Brothers soda bread would actually turn out.

it was perfect: apart from a little too much salt. You should all go make this. Now. Seriously, the internet will be much better when you have some hot, fresh out of the oven, soda bread with melty butter. Mmmmm!

Anyway, the point is that experimentation isn’t exactly my forte.

Café Fish will always hold a dear place in my heart. When both the restaurant and I were based in Leith, my team went along for a special Friday lunch. I can’t remember the reasoning behind it, just that there were four of us and we got through a bottle of wine before my boss asked if we wanted another.

Our intern said “no” but my colleague and I said “yes”.

That afternoon wasn’t very productive,  although such an awesome lunch should have been an indicator not to hand in my notice.

But I fell victim to the lure of the yankee dollar and moved myself on up to the West End of town. Café Fish obviously had the same idea and shifted premises over to Stockbridge, where it’s a lot more prominent than tucked off a side street along from The Shore.

Although I visited the Steak and Mussel Bar for my birthday party the Saturday before, I didn’t want to spend the actual day of my birthday alone and miserable. Luckily my buddy, Edinburgh singer songwriter Colin Asquith, kindly took me along to Café Fish to enjoy their lunchtime tapas menu.

The last time I visited Café Fish, the lunchtime menu was just a standard set menu. I remember it being amazing though, and actually quite good value at around £12 for two courses (more or less; hey it was September 2010, and I drink a lot of wine).  Although I love tapas, I don’t feel that they provide such good value for money in general. At around £4 a plate, tapas portions are always so small that you’re left hungry.

Anyway, I felt quite giddy as I looked over the tapa menu. I don’t know if that was to do with the array of tasty treats on offer, spending quality time with Colin, the bag of pressies he got me, or if it was the mini bottle of cava I’d polished off before leaving the house (it’s my birthday!).

In the end we chose two tapas each, and shared.

I chose:

Crispy squid

Crispy fried squid with passion fruit and chilli dipping sauce. I love passion fruit, and I love squid: what could go wrong? The answer is not a lot, to be honest. But I’ll try to be critical. The sauce was perhaps a little too sweet, overpowering the tartness of the passion-fruit and instead coming over as similar to the sticky sweet chilli dipping sauce that was so ubiquitous a few years ago. The squid was perfectly cooked, however, and the batter had a good crunch to it.

Smoked Trout with Shaved Fennel

Smoked trout with shaved fennel. J’adore smoked fish, and was delighted to see trout on the menu. Simple, elegant, with a rich flavour. Oh and that colour!

Colin chose:

Here be Mussels

Steamed shetland mussels. Unfortunately I only took a photo of the outside of the pot. It was a pretty cool pot, though: the lid could be used as a recepticle for the shells. As I got stuck in with my fingers, I thought it was quite funny that the best mussels I’ve had this year were at a fish restaurant, rather than at the dedicated mussel bars I’ve visited.

Chorizo laced patatas bravas

Patatas bravas with chorizo. Boring I know, but you can’t have tapas without patatas bravas. It’s just wrong. The chorizo added a depth of flavour and meaty tang to proceedings and really brought a new life to a sort of boring side dish. Let’s face it: it’s just chips with spicy ketchup, eh?

After stuffing our little faces, we realised that we were still hungry. Tapas, eh? Tut tut. Luckily Café Fish have an awesome dessert menu.

Cranachan Parfait

While Colin chose the chocolate fondant, I decided to unleash my Scottish fury and ordered cranachan ice cream. Oh good grief, I hope they keep this bad boy on the menu because it was blimmin’ awesome. Sweet, soft, creamy, with perfect texture added by the oats. They’d left it out of the fridge for a few minutes so that it wasn’t tooth tinglingly cold, either.

I’ve seen some criticism of Café Fish that it’s a little too pricey and perhaps too big for its boots. All I can say is that both times I’ve been, in both locations, I’ve left feeling impressed by a meal that I can look back on with pleasure. They didn’t win Scottish Seafood Restaurant of the year 2012 for nothing, you know.

This review is rather late, dear readers, as I’m not sure that I’m ready to admit to myself yet that I’m closer to 30 than 20.

Birthdays are a funny thing: when you’re younger it’s exciting because you get to eat cake and open presents.  Then you get older and suddenly the stress sets in: who should I invite, what should we do, what if nobody comes, OH GOD I’M GOING TO BE DEAD SOON! That kind of thing.

I decided this year that it would be great fun to have dinner, followed by a ghost tour. This restricted us to restaurants nearby the Royal Mile. Then I remembered The Mussel and Steak Bar, which I’d only heard great things about. After disappointments at Steak and The Mussel Inn I thought it was about time I get some decent bivalves and bovine down my gullet.

So a table was booked, a tarty dress was procured, and off we went!

Before even looking at the menu, I’d decided that I wanted steak and mussels. Of course this would be pricey, given that half a kilo of mussels for a starter would be £12.50; but dammit, it’s my birthday and I’ve made up my mind.

One of my fellow diners then discovered the bargainous Surf & Turf: half a kilo of mussels, an 8oz ribeye, some squid, and crevettes. Pretty much everybody at the table was in agreement that at £24.95 this was good value (alone the crevettes would be £5.50 and the steak £17.95. Add the mussels and squid on and you can see it’s definitely the best option.)

But then the fellow diner who had discovered this bargainous platter then realised that it didn’t come with chips. “I’m not ordering it if it doesn’t come with chips” said she. What!? There’s so much food you’re going to end up in a food induced coma! Who needs chips!?

Still, I told her if she ordered it I’d share a portion with her. This kept her happy. Looking back though we should have ordered bread instead, to mop up the sauce from our moules.

Surf and turf

We placed our orders and got a few bottles of white and red for the table. I’ve been studying wine for well over a year now and I have no idea what to drink with surf and turf; white for surf, red for turf; rosé for both? (Perish the thought).

I can only describe it as a feast. I’d be tucking into my juicy steak with gusto and then suddenly remember that I had mussels, too. So I’d be getting my fingers all sticky and dirty with shallot and cream sauce then I’d remember that I have squid and crevettes too,and then I’d remember the steak again.

Oh and the chips!

Steak & Mussel Bar Seafood Platter

The best part of the evening for me was my friend Sam trying a mussel. She’d never tried one before, so well done Sam! I think that’s equivalent to me eating a bug- something that gives me the heebie jeebies. This is the year of Sam trying new things so she’s doing well so far.

It was really strange, though. Despite the amount of food I shovelled into myself, I didn’t feel overly full. I could have easily done a dessert cocktail, but sadly we had to rush to make it up to the ghost tour.

The mussels were good and the steak was good; unlike a 69, I don’t think either suffered for a focus on the other. Although if you’re more used to eating fillet steak, you might find the rib-eye a bit fatty as a couple of my chums did. Personally ribeye is my favourite standard cut of meat so no complaints here. The fat is what imparts flavour, after all.