Caol Ila Moch Nose: Rising – stretching – yawning from a deep sleep, sun-kissed swollen lemons rush to introduce themselves, as you absorb the early summer morning. Wild grassy fields fill the clear post-dawn air, while the land gingerly warms up around you.
Caol Ila Moch Taste: Taking a hungry bite into hot wholemeal toast ladened with soft, salted butter, before generously adding zingy lemon curd. A peaty element comes through but in a restrained, ladylike manner.
Yellow is the colour of my true love’s hair
In the mornin’, when we rise
In the mornin’, when we rise
That’s the time, that’s the time
I love the best…
L’Escargot Bleu, a quaint French bistro exuding an understating Parisian chic. But what’s it doing in freezing, pissing down Edinburgh? French restaurants and Scotland have history behind them. In 1295, the ‘Auld Alliance’ brought Scotland and France together through shared interests in controlling England’s aggression. Although primarily forming a military and diplomatic alliance, more importantly for Scots, brought a steady supply of vin francais. I wondered if the seven hundred years of French culinary influence behind L’Escargot Bleu Edinburgh had elevated Scottish eating habits, from deep fried everything with Irn-Bru to haute cuisine and fine wines?
Nestled amongst the stone elegance of Edinburgh’s new town, away from the Playhouse traffic, into the neatly set, dimly lit, late Georgian streets sat L’Escargot Bleu. Behind the proud French navy façade, the interior was tastefully all matt grey, dark wood and flickering candles.
This French romantic vibe just got me in the mood…for something Peruvian. Starting with the Sea Bass Ceviche, arriving oddly hidden under glossy leaves. The dish was vibrant, refreshing – full of citrusy tang. The fish was skilfully sliced, the onions deftly shaved and all and sundry kept their textures determinedly. It was excellent, yet I wanted more. L’Escargot Bleu Edinburgh didn’t match the eponymous ‘Don Ceviche’, by London’s Ceviche restaurants which I’d previously enjoyed; however, they’re Peruvian and double the price. Some well-seasoned, fresh mussels in breadcrumbs were served al la Crunchy Nut Cornflakes. Tasty enough but I wasn’t convinced combining mussels with a crunchy coating was a good idea.
Regarding mains, the cod was a hauling beast of pristine white muscle, yet carelessly fell away from my fork’s gentle glance. The aquatic Olympian was gifted texture by a coat of crumbly, salty deliciousness; and, dutifully guarded by purposeful mussels, all lovingly coated in a boldly seasoned, ethereal light sauce. The deep Burgundy coloured Venison Skewers were of a supreme quality: if you’re into murdering majestic mammals this should be why. The deer was fiercely seasoned, sublimely tender, and rested on perfectly formed couscous. The Vegetable Gratin was more impressive than any side had any right to be: it was a miracle of engineering, being so rich in dairy goodness yet enigmatically light. Solid seasoning, punchy garlic and a weighty dose of (I suspect) nutmeg added a magical je ne sais quoi.
L’Escargot Bleu Edinburgh’s cheeseboard wasn’t as compelling as it appeared: fine but unoriginal fromages, tediously uniform biscuits, avec oily, completely unnecessary salad leaves. However, the goat’s cheese was something special – thick, creamy, pungent mouth-filling titillation of the highest order.
With charming staff, quaffable wine, frighteningly good early-bird value and cosy, continental ambience, L’Escargot Bleu is an Edinburgh gem.
L’Escargot Bleu Edinburgh
Review Summary
Atmosphere 9 Cost 10 Quality 8 Service 9
L’escargot bleu is listed as ‘Best Newcomer of the Year’ in The List Eating & Drinking Guide, features in the Michelin guide each year.L’escargot bleu is listed in the ‘Five Best Restaurants in Scotland’ by Pete Irvine.L’escargot bleu & l’escargot blanc’s chef patron Fred Berkmiller was a finalist for the ‘Chef of the Year’ title at the CIS Excellence Awards 2016 and has been named a ‘Food Pioneer’ at the Scotland Food & Drink Excellence Awards 2016L’escargot bleu aims to: “unite the finest French and Scottish produce to provide a dining experience you will not forget”.£14.90 Two Course Early Dinner“Provenance is key; there is only one rule in [their] kitchen – quality.”
Northcote, (formally Northcote Manor), surrounding by sodden pastures and grey skies, is home to Lancashire’s only Michelin star, fuelled by the formidable Nigel Haworth and Lisa Allen. I thought what better way to congratulate Jesus on rising from the dead, then sniffing out posh Sunday lunch in his honour?
Despite not being particularly stretched, a sense of Northern and Michelin hospitality was undermined by walking both in and out of Northcote without acknowledgement of any kind. It was quite obviously pissing down, yet neither my coat nor dripping umbrella was offered to be removed.
Inside, the lounge area was comfortable and the bar was well-stocked, if not cluttered. Despite Northcote fairly recently having a makeover, I’m not sure the grey, pink, and orange upholstery worked with the period wood panelling. After waiting around for some time, the abrupt host was permanently set on rapid fire: “Have you decided – what would you like – what can I get you?” This unsettling briefing, was contrasted by a sedate dining room. Once seated, the smartly-presented young Northcote team were very cordial and well-organised, but without a sense of occasion. The views of the pretty kitchen-garden in the foreground and rolling hills in the background provide a pleasant back drop, so window seats are recommended.
The amuse bouche had the bittersweet honour of being Northcote’s highlight. Melting magenta shells fleetingly fizzled, birthing a tart, sizzling beetroot flavour, that slapped my taste buds ’round the chops in no uncertain terms.There was no choice but to accept the Dinner Jacket Potato Soup, which was more butter than jacket. The trendy foraged herbs added freshness, although someone’s hair added the opposite. Although this was swiftly dealt with, I doubt a Michelin inspector would have forgave.
The beetroot starter was one the prettiest plate I’d ever seen: vibrant hues and floral shapes, elegantly intertwined in an act of vegetarian poetry. The sweet and acidic elements energetically danced but lacked a focal point. The alien looking Duck was heavily entombed but worked affably alongside the uplifting sorrel, even if it did look like Cousin It.
For mains, the salmon proudly commanded the plate, yet unselfishly yielded to the fork’s graze. The boldly-seasoned fish and convivially sweet roe double teamed the earthy mushrooms, creating a bravely balanced dish which spoke of land and sea in matrimony. The little pops of orange added a touch of vibrancy. While the Japanese influence of soy, shitake and ikura (roe) worked charmingly. The thoughtfully composed lamb was quality dead baby sheep, locally sauced from Bowland, but lacked a je nesais quoi. It was so rare it walked through the Northcote kitchen. In the two seconds it spent cooking, it was however properly seared and heartily seasoned. The mash was superlatively silky and the scorched and pickled onions added textures and talking points.
Regarding desserts, the trio of British cheeses were delicious, especially a terrified looking puddle of something Brie related. More crackers and less bread I’d suggest though. Northcote’s cleverly crafted cream egg was an enchanting nod to the season, providing deftly constructed contrasting textures, although anything white chocolate and hazelnut is a winner for me.
Northcote Restaurant
Review Summary
Atmosphere 5 Cost 7 Quality 9 Service 8
Beetroot Amuse BoucheJacket Potato & Foraged Herb SoupThree Beets, Yellow, Red & Candied, Pickles Shallot Hearts, Horseradish, Herbs and FlowersCrunchy Goosnargh Duck, Sorrel Cream, OxalisRoasted Salmon, Shitake Mushroom, Wilted Watercress, SoyBowland Lamb, Crème Fraiche Potato, English Onion, Pickled, ScorchedThree British Cheeses, House Crackers, Breads, Fireside Chutney and Fig ChutneyHazelnut Chocolate Cream Egg
Fantastic Feasts & Where To Find Them 