Ottolenghi, Edinburgh, first review: 'They're taking their Scottish mission seriously'

This is an exciting additiion to the Capital

I’m with The Carpenters when it comes to rainy days and Mondays.

In fact, the best thing to ever happen to me on this weekday has been getting an answer right on BBC’s Only Connect.

Until Monday just past, when I found myself at Scotland’s first branch of Ottolenghi, which has launched 24 years after the first of 13 restaurants opened in London’s Notting Hill.

It’s unusual in that it’s open on this day. In fact, it’s open daily, from 8am until 10pm (or 10.30pm on Fridays and Saturdays). Yep, they’re taking this Scottish mission extremely seriously. That’s also evidenced by their employment of a Scottish executive chef, Neil Campbell, formerly of Ondine, and boasting a lengthy list of our finest producers, from Welch Fishmongers to Woven Whisky. Even the aprons have been created by local menswear designer Kestin Hare.

They do more than just pay lip service. And, for that reason, we welcome them into the fold.

It is already hoaching. Not unusual, as this is the most hyped opening since Edinburgh’s branch of Uniqlo, and their jumpers don’t even taste that nice.

I’m sure most of the mixed demographic on our visit have a few harissa-splattered hardbacks of Israeli-British chef and restaurateur Yotam Ottolenghi’s books. I even perused his latest, Simple Too, before my visit, to get those gastric juices pumping while thumbing the ‘crushed crisp omelette’ centrefold.

Anyway, the space looks wonderful. It was a bit oppressive as pasta restaurant Ragu, but they’ve opened it out and added jaunty Miro-esque murals.

The Middle Eastern and Mediterranean influenced lunch and dinner menu looks very appealing. However, brace yourself, as it is spendy, even for the capital.

As far as starters go, there is one choice - the £15pp meze.

It’s a brilliant idea. You each have a garlicky flatbread that was so inflated that it looked as if it might float away, and a shareable on-brand spread of vegetarian delights, all served on dinky coaster-sized dishes. Each option was beautifully distinct, and included a sweet roasted peperonata with pine nut crumble; Fasolakia beans with spicy gochujang and feta cream, as well as a beetroot, cherry and sour cream mixture. My other half loved the cucumber achar with crispy curry leaves. However, as a baba ganoush fan, my favourite was the burnt aubergine, ginger, spring onion and sesame. It vanished speedily, so they brought me another. Apparently, it’s something they do, which is rather kind.

Really, this spread could be our daily meal for eternity and we’d be content. Once we’d finished, the paper tablecloth - an essential, here - was appreciatively dotted with saucy islands and archipelagos. We’re sure we could see Skye.

The main course options include Claypots and Sharers. These are big hefty sharing plates for two, so don’t be too alarmed by the prices, which range from £48 to £110 for the mixed shellfish grill, butter beans and Baharat butter. We went for a pair of the Large Plates, ranging from £21 to £42.

First to arrive were the chicken skewers (£27) -four ping-pong-ball-sized pieces of velvety thigh meat threaded onto one metal prong, and blackened by an earthy coffee and ancho marinade.

They came with a not-for-the-faint-hearted juicy dollop of chilli-seed-dotted shatta, and a cool and garlicky blob of the Lebanese dip that is toum.

SO much punchy flavour. The same for the incredibly burly and feral beef kofta - five rich and nutty gobstoppers that were each anointed with currant and pine nut salsa, and served in a puddle of salty and tangy yoghurt sauce. Oh man. My tastebuds were uncoiling like ferns in the Royal Botanic Garden’s Palm Houses.

It’s worth noting that Sides are huge. We tried the crispy edged potato wedges with herb salt and sour cream, and the roasted cabbage, chilli and garlic chips (both £6), each enough for two, easily.

I was hoping to see the bananas in pyjamas that are in Simple Too on the pudding menu here. However, a jammy and tangy kumquat marmalade steamed pudding (£8), served with a frothy sabayon, was probably even better, like a citrus fruit in a silky nightie. We also enjoyed their cranachan dupe, even though it didn’t contain any noticeable oats. Instead, for the crispy texture there were filo wafer shards, as well as burnt honey and whisky cream and pulped raspberries.

What a feast, and the cocktails - I tried the saline-y and herbal gimlet (£13.50), with Lind & Lime Gin, mastiha, cucumber, kumpquat marmalade and oat shoyu - are totally banging too.

So, yeah, I can be cynical about some of these breathlessly-hyped arrivals.

However, this is not a chain that’s diluted the original concept. See Jamie’s Italian, Gordon Ramsay or Marco Pierre White’s empires if you want that sort of thing.

I left feeling as high as I would if I’d got every single Monday night question right on Only Connect, and maybe even University Challenge too.