Feast Blog

In researching the finer restaurants in Edinburgh, one name was mentioned more than others; The Witchery. Looking at their website, one sees a celebrity list to rival an BAFTA runway. It took a bit of work to get reservations and before my arrival, I asked local cab drivers and hotel staff what they thought. All were enthusiastic with exclamations of, “Oh! That is where my husband brought me for my anniversary last year!” or “It is the most elegant restaurant in town — a place to go for special occasions!” Upon arrival, I could see the décor as reminiscent of an old world men’s club with its dark wood and elegance. I was greeted warmly and seated near the outdoor garden. Perusing the menu, I had mostly decided to order a variety of starters as they did not offer a tasting menu (despite asking beforehand).

At a table nearby, I spied another solo diner, a young woman asking the waiter what venison tasted like. It was obvious he couldn’t supply even the modicum of a reasonable answer and I intervened to offer an explanation. Realizing that she was not waiting for anyone, I invited her to join me at my table as we were both obviously dining alone. Melody and bonded quickly; both traveling alone, both looking for the best restaurant in town, and (charmingly enough), both members of a known cabal of knitters via Ravelry.com. Chatting about food and travel and yarn, a friendship was born over what would ultimately prove to be incredibly mediocre food.

Wanting to experience the ultimate in a haggis experience, I started my meal with their “Finlay’s of Portobellow award winning haggis” served with “neeps and tatties” (potatoes and rutabagas). Going completely traditional, I also ordered a serving of Scotch, a 20-year Oban. The potato was whipped and formed into a quennelle, then fried while the neeps was puréed and served alongside a golfball-sized haggis. Despite an insipidly thin sauce, this was the most intriguing dish of the evening so that doesn’t say much. Melody ordered a starter of scallop which was served in a half-shell with Iberico pancetta. These scallops were obviously sliced in half, swimming in over-seasoned, over-cooked and over-salted melted butter. Mel enjoyed them, but I found them inedibly salty.

Our main courses arrived. Melody definitely enjoyed her first-time venison, but I found it flabby and poorly prepared. Under the fanned slices of over-cooked meat was some of the same neeps purée that I had with my haggis and a slice of potato gratin all surrounded with a puddle of thin, clumsy sauce. The plating and all the components seemed rather bourgeois after the perfection and artistry I had experienced the night before at The Kitchin. The true catastrophe of the meal lied in my seafood platter. A cold selection of local seafood, the platter included oysters, clams, mussels, lobster, and prawns. There was also a half-shell offering of smoked salmon, tartare, and some mayonnaise-based fish salad. While not blatantly bad, it was obvious that it was simply not the best quality fish available, nor had it been recently prepared. The clams and mussels were puny and chewy. The lobster was mealy. The oysters were not well-shucked with bits of shell and no liquor left with the mollusk meat. Had Melody not helped me out, more than half of the offering would have sat un-eaten. 

I wasn’t ready to give up on the food and my new compatriot and I were having such a great time chatting that we decided to give the desserts a try. In my usual fashion, I opted for a cheese plate with a glass of Sauterne. Between The Kitchin and the café at Modern Art Museum, I had experienced several excellent offerings of Scottish-made cheeses and I was anxious to taste some more. God bless Mel for picking the dessert sampler which included a chocolate torte and sorbet, mango parfait, bread and butter pudding, pistachio macaroon, and puff candy ice cream. My cheese plate was offered in a rather perfunctory fashion with no descriptives and I called the waiter over to ask for an explanation of what types of cheeses I was being served. He started to tell me so that I could make notes when I realized he was speaking French. Well, they were all French cheeses — no local Scottish or even English cheeses. I didn’t bother to write them down. And Mel’s dessert sampler? I think we liked the chocolate torte but they were all unremarkable and went unfinished.

So, is The Witchery all it is cracked up to be by those locals who had raved about it? I believe it is but only because it is mired in a 1970s sentimentality of what a fancy, special occasion restaurant should be. It is all bells and whistles and no substance. And for those in search of truly excellent cuisine, it should be avoided at all costs. But for me, it will be the place where I at least met a great new friend.

After a handful of nice luncheons at Murray Circle, I was anxious to return for the Full Monty dinner. Accompanied by trusted dining buddy, Lisa, I apologize that the good camera was left at home and only the iPhone camera was available to document the evening. We opted for the full, eight-course Grand Tasting (they offer a four-course tasting as well). And after consulting with our server, determined that a shared wine pairing (1 to 2 ounce pours) would suffice for the two of us.

Drakes Bay Oysters as a bisque, Dijon mustard “floating island,” with watermelon radish. Served with Gaston Chiquet, Brut tradition, Dizy, NV. Two oysters were curled up and served next to a large, fluffy quenelle of mustard. The quality of the oysters was excellent, the soup portion was rich and creamy, and the influence of a hint of the mustard foam quenelle would have been nice, but the size of the quenelle overwhelmed the dish. I made the mistake of taking a large bite out of the quenelle because it was such a predominant ingredient in the presentation. After I realized how strong that component was, I concentrated more on the luscious bisque and juxtaposition of bright watermelon bits with just a taste of the mustard. Much, much better… The Gaston Chiquet was creamy and a perfect accompaniment.

Gulf Prawns from the plancha, cherry tomatoes “aigre-doux,” corn velouté, and basil popcorn. Served with Domaine de la Cadette, La Chatelaine, Vézelay, Burgundy, 2007. The wine was lovely with well-integrated mineral notes and complexity. The wine worked well with the corn velouté but sadly, the rest of the dish fell woefully short. We were both intrigued with the concept of basil popcorn and immediately tasted one, but were mostly disappointed. The prawns were not cooked properly and had a mushy texture which did not work well against the mushiness of the tomatoes. It was just a sad, sad dish overall and went back to the kitchen mostly un-eaten.

Dayboat Halibut, grilled in fig leaves, sassafras, hazelnut, with sea urchin emulsion. Served with Michel-Schlumberger, La Brume Chardonnay, Dry Creek, 2006. I was not particularly thrilled with a second Chardonnay (there ARE other whites that work well with seafood!), but once I tasted the course, I didn’t really care. Served alongside the halibut was sugar snap peas and hazelnuts and a parsnip purée. The urchin emulsion was served tableside and with Lisa’s devotion to uni, we asked for a little extra. Everything about this course was brilliant; the halibut had been grilled and the perfect amount of smokiness was detectable against the unctuousness of the sea urchin. The snow peas provided a perfectly crisp brightness. This course certainly made up for the indiscretion of the previously served prawn.

Squab and Lobster Salad served with mizuna and Zinfandel marmalade. Served with Fernand & Laurent Pillot, ‘Tavennes,’ Pommard, 2005. The imported pinot was very vibrant with a hint of wood and berry and was spectacular with the salad. This was the second winning course in a row. Considering the prawns were undercooked, I was a tad worried about the lobster, but I had no concerns on that regard. The richness of the lobster and the rare, succulent squab were great pairings heightened by the fresh greens. Excellent course.

Grass Fed Beef, wood grilled, with potato gratin and baby carrots. Served with Robert Foley Vineyards Merlot, Napa, 2006. The wine was velvety and silky, true Howell Mountain characteristics of ripe berry and integrated spice. A very respectable offering, I wish I could get excited about simple protein courses. We were more interested in the perfectly round potato gratins and sauce. Don’t get me wrong; the meat was excellent and perfectly prepared, but it was just meat.

“Aria” cheese baked in rye bread, apricot-whiskey, grapefruit. Served with Alois Kracher, Beerenauslese Cuvée, Burgenland, 2006. A triangle of cheese baked in a thin sliver of (what I assume to be homemade) rye bread. So many high-end restaurants fall short on the cheese plate, offering nothing other than a few slices with the routine nut and dried fruit accompaniment. This realization was well-conceived and executed. The hint of rye worked so well with the warm, creamy cheese. Just a few bites of grapefruit and apricot showed amazing restraint and brilliance. Fabulous.

Pink Pearl Apple Sorbet with Candied Fennel Cake and Fig Coulis. Served with Two Hands Brilliant Disguise, Moscato, Barossa, 2008. These little squares of fennel cake were scrumptious. This was a dessert I could get passionate about although the apple sorbet did not work with the sweet wine. Taking the miniature cakes on their own with the fig coulis and the wine was perfection. I could eat this several times over and wished I had stopped at this dessert. When we saw what the waiter was pouring, we asked for something larger than the small pours we had been receiving and were quite gratified that we were given a bit more. It was that stunning.

“Coconut Joy” – Dark chocolate mousse, milk chocolate glaze, with toasted almond ice cream. Served with Kobalt Cabernet Sauvignon Port, Napa, 2005. After the bliss of the fennel cake, this dessert was incredibly mis-guided in its execution. In the center of the mousse was a disk of coconut nougat the size of a quarter. A few bites of the mousse were fine, but when we got to the nougat, the mousse had to be destroyed to extract the disk. There was no way to cut the disk so biting it was the only way to take a small bite, only to discover it was hard and chewy. Served alongside was a larger disk of coconut meringue studded with almonds. Apparently the kitchen was trying to recreate an Almond Joy or Mounds bar, but failed short. The Port tasted good though.

Overall, it was a good evening. I’m not sure it was great. The successes certainly outweighed the detractions. I would go back for lunch.

Business found me in Las Vegas for my 45th birthday at the beginning of June. Before arriving, I had an invitation from a Facebook friend I had never met for a birthday cocktail, which I found utterly charming. I met Sonia Bañuelos of Saffron Paisley fame met me at the Parasol Bar in the Wynn. We were shortly joined by Denise of Delisch, and Meghan Riley. Debating where to dine for dinner, Daniel Boulud’s Brasserie is mere steps from the opulent water show, but despite the massive array of empty tables, I was told there was an hour+ wait. Getting hungry, we opted to squeeze into the lounge area, which is not quite as comfortable for where (we were told) at least the whole menu was available.

In our classic sharing mode, for the table I ordered a 2004 Outpost Zinfandel which was well-loved by all. Also for the table was the *small* version of the fruits de mer, an exceptional offering of chilled fish. On the platter was 4″ prawns, three types of crudo and tartare, a half lobster, mussels, oysters, and clams. The quality of the fish was exceptional and ample. I also ordered the terrine of foie which was easily one of the best offerings of foie I have tasted in a decade. Served alongside was an aspic of elderflower and a crème with an imperceptible flavor. We asked about it because it was so light and enticing and the waiter insisted it was horseradish, which was obviously wrong. Regardless, the foie itself was perfectly prepared with a firm, creamy texture and served with delightfully thin, toasted brioche.

Also on the table was a glorious charcuterie plate, the best burger I have ever tasted, a rich duck breast, and a side of creamed spinach. I would go back for the burger in a heart-beat, despite what I think was a $32 price tag. We finished up the evening with a cheese plate but because of the volume in the lounge, we didn’t really understand the cheese explanations which were offered. They were served with a few glasses of Tokaji and I was very surprised that in all, the entire meal with tip came to a mere $100 a person. Quite a bargain, considering the quality and bounty of the food offered.

I have a “thing” for eating in the oldest restaurants I can find. In London last spring, it was Rules. Since I am New York, despite friends’ attempts to dissuade me, it is Domenico’s, open since 1837. I remember the restaurant being specifically mentioned in movie, Life With Father; when Elizabeth Taylor visits the family, Irene Dunne insists that father, William Powell, take them to Domenico’s. And then there is The Epicurean, the cookbook written by Domenico’s’ chef, Charles Ranhofer, in the late 1800s. I have a copy and adore all 1183 pages, 800 illustrations, and over 3000 recipes. So how could I not eat here???

I would like to think that in its hey-day, the interior would be far more elegant and refined. Not that it was necessarily slouchy, just not as elegant as I anticipated it would be. Jerry and I had decided we were going to order the “classic” dishes; those with the historical pedigree. While perusing the menu, we had martinis. Outside of the classics, the only dish we ordered that was probably not historical was a salad of watercress, Maytag blue cheese, bacon, and some minimal garnish of wine-poached pears, candied walnuts, and walnut raisin toast. The watercress was fresh but the salad was obviously over dressed.

Of the historical dishes, Jerry ordered the “Classic” Delmonico Steak — 20 ounces of wet-aged prime boneless rib eye served with fried onions. The steak was fabulous but the onions were very cold. In honor of my mother, I had to order what would have been her favorite, the Lobster Thermidor. There was no way to prepare for the amazing presentation of this dish; two lobster tails, four small claws topped with caviar, and a single head placed vertically in the center, all surrounded with a redolently decadent Brandy cream sauce. Two additional sides were ordered, black truffled mashed potatoes and creamed spinach. But it was that lobster which blew us away.

Of course the final classic Ranhofer recipe which was a must-try was Baked Alaska. Oddly, I remember Baked Alaska as being a big 1970s dessert and I can’t recall any occasion in the past 30 years that I’ve had it. This version was not bad, banana candy ice cream molded atop a Turkish apricot compote and beautifully surrounded with meringue.

Unlike the service at Rules — or even another classic, Los Angeles’ Musso & Franks — here at Domenico’s it was perfunctory and cold. We sat for several minutes with our menus closed before there was even a chance to order our martinis. Even at that point, I had to ask for a wine list for our entrées. But I will remember that lobster for a long, long time…

Anchor & Hope had been high on my must-try list and being a predominantly seafood-based establishment, it makes perfect sense that I had to arrange the trip with my buddy, Gabe, a professional fish-monger. I made reservations early and as I arrived first, saw the restaurant was filling up quickly. I was offered a table but the bar looked far more inviting and it was only the two of us. Wanting to taste as many courses as possible, we ordered mostly Appetizers and advised our server to send out anything he though we couldn’t leave with out tasting. Gabe is sweet in letting me order the wine and I took a chance on an unknown Viognier from France, Domaine de Triennes, 2007. It ended up being the perfect wine for our multiple fish courses (as Rhone whites usually are); rich, complex, layered, with hints of lemon zest, dark integrated stone fruit, and an oily texture on the tongue.

First Course: “Fries With Eyes” – Smelts with Remoulade Sauce. Light and crispy, the remoulade was a perfect combination of creamy and slightly spicy to accompany the fresh smelts.

Second Course: Oysters on the Half Shell. I’m sorry I don’t recall the exact varieties. We simply instructed them to bring us two of each that they had that day. Served with the standard Mignonette and cocktail sauce, I was happy with just a splash of lemon juice.

Third Course: “Angels on Horseback” – Smoked Bacon-Wrapped Oysters with Remoulade Sauce. Of all our dishes, this was my least favorite. And not because it was bad by any means; I’m just realizing that 90% of the time, I prefer my oysters raw versus cooked, I had already tasted the remoulade, and — not too surprisingly — the fresh, applewood-smoked bacon’s distinct and strong flavors overwhelms the oysters. Gabe loved these and I could see others who greatly enjoyed the dish, it is just too many strong, disparate flavors for me.

Fourth Course: Warm Endive and Beet Salad with Goat Cheese and Candied Walnuts. Okay, my bad… I had the delusion that we needed some form of a vegetable to counter all the fish we were about to eat. And it was not even that it was a bad salad or anything. It was a perfectly lovely beet and goat cheese salad and the twist of warming the greens and the lovely vinaigrette was a nice palate cleanser and all that, but the bottom line is that it took up valuable stomach space which is better suited to the great fish we were experiencing.

Fifth Course: Lobster “Pot Pie”. There was some debate on whether or not we were going to order anything off the entrée list but our server insisted that going through a self-made tasting menu would not be complete without trying this over-the-top dish. Presented like a soufflé, the server breaks open the top of the beautifully browned puff pastry to pour in a decadently rich brandy-lobster roe reduction. Once we broke through the crust, the interior was chock full of giant chunks of lobster, buttercup squash, and celery root. At $32, this is not an inexpensive dish, but is worth every damned penny.

Sixth Course: Braised Fresh Bacon and Seared Prawn with Creamy Grits and Red Wine Sauce. If you glance through the pictures, you will have seen a LOT of fish courses with dark, rich sauces. This tends to be a dichotomy as many fishes can’t hold up to the dark sauces. In this particular case, it is not an overstatement to say that the hunk of giant bacon could have easily been its very own course, sans prawn. But the sweetness of the GIANT prawn, coupled with the subtle, creamy grits and perfectly sautéed greens, brought the whole dish together in a very surprising fashion for me. Like the Angels on Horseback, I tend to think that the flavor of bacon is just plain too strong a flavor to pair with fish. In this case, I was way wrong.

Seventh Course: Warm Sea Urchin in the Shell. Well, we were so overwhelmed with the complex and redolently rich pot pie that we were going to quit. But our server wasn’t finished and the jewel of the crown arrived; a giant, whole, hollowed-out sea urchin. The interior provided one of the most amazing and memorable dishes I have ever tasted; the sea urchin coupled with potato purée, Dungeness crab, and a lemon beurre blanc. Truly astounding.

Overall, the restaurant is a little on the crowded side with bright lights and close tables. Acoustically, it can get on the loud side but we had no problem, being at the bar. There are so many other dishes I would love to order and hope to be able to make it back soon.