Places to Eat: The Pantry

If there's one thing Stockbridge doesn't lack, it's cute places to have a cup of coffee and a bite to eat. There are so many of them around here I haven't even had a chance to try them all yet, and I've been here the better part of a year. So if you're going to open up a new one, you'd better have something great to offer, and you'd better really know your audience.

Chris and Charlotte Thompson, the couple who opened The Pantry at the end of 2012, clearly did their research. This place is so well attuned to the neighbourhood it's like they conducted a focus group prior to opening. This is the type of cozy local spot that supports local producers, embraces organic, is family friendly (every day from 3-4 is mums' hour, during which coffees are a quid and there are games and things to entertain the wee ones. Very, very smart, as this area's got a significant portion of young families), and doesn't take itself too seriously. It caters to a clientele that is willing to splash out a bit of extra for spelt flour, knows good food, and likes to have a few surprises. That's Stockbridge.

I've embraced The Pantry wholeheartedly: I've been there four times in the last month alone. And judging by the healthy crowds I always see there, I'm not alone.

First, the food. It's great. I've been there for brunch, lunch (twice), and dinner, and it's never let me down. The menus all feature dishes that are comfortingly familiar (kedgeree for brunch, a burger and sandwiches for lunch, etc), but they usually feature a twist. The kedgeree was served with tiny hard-boiled quails' eggs, for instance, and a smoked salmon sandwich is served with a refreshing lemon creme fraiche (the sandwich in question is very good, but I couldn't help but think it would be brilliant if served on rye bread instead of the slightly stodgy white it came on). If you get a sandwich there, order it with their house-made chips, which are thick, crispy, and delicious.

At night they turn the lights down and trot out a menu that changes constantly to reflect what's best of the current season. Husby and I decided to go there for Burns Night a couple of weeks ago, knowing that we'd get more than the expected haggis and slab of shortbread. We were definitely right. While The Pantry focuses on filling comfort foods during the day, they really up their game at night, sending out absolutely exquisite and well-thought-out dishes the like of which I'm used to seeing in places that charge far more than £30 for a three-course dinner. Our meal started off with a cullen skink amuse bouche. Although it was rather big for an amuse, it was so incredibly delicious I didn't care. I felt like I could have happily eaten a gallon of the stuff, which was thick, creamy, smoky--everything you'd want on a damp, chilly evening. This promising beginning was swiftly followed by salads: mine was cured salmon with beetroot and fennel scone pieces, and his was the same, but with anise pickled cucumber in place of the salmon. The plates were almost too pretty to touch, but touch them we did, and quickly devoured the contents. After (it must be said) a very long wait we received our main courses: roasted venison with haggis spring rolls, olive oil mash, and spinach. The meat was roasted to rare perfection, and the mash was smooth and delectable (and perfect for soaking up the rich sauces from the meat). I loved the spring rolls, and found them not only delicious but a rather playful way of working the traditional haggis into the dish.

Dessert is often where restaurants fall down, but that wasn't the case here. Husby had the cheese plate, which is served with mini Peter's Yard crispbreads and apples, while I opted for the 'Confused Cranachan', yet another fabulously presented plate of whisky-soaked sponge circles nestled between an airy mousse with such a pronounced honey flavour it was as if I was eating it straight from the hive. A beautiful bramble coulis helped cut the richness of both the mousse and the sponge.

If I had one issue with this place, it's this: the service needs work. Don't get me wrong, the servers are all very friendly and helpful, but there are definitely some issues there. The first time we went was during brunch on a Sunday, and it was busy. It was clear that the waitstaff was overwhelmed, even though there were plenty of them on the floor. The problem seemed to be lack of organisation: it appeared that they didn't have specific tables assigned to each server, so everyone was just sort of picking up and dropping off wherever. That meant that nobody really seemed to know what any one table's status was, so it took a very long time for anyone to get around to taking our order, and then an even longer time to get our bill. While we were waiting for it, someone else's change was dropped off at our table, and when the bill came, it wasn't ours. At dinner, the issues were less about disorganisation and more about a lack of finesse. Dishes were dropped off at the table with no explanation or introduction whatsoever. While that's not really an issue with the salad or main course, it's definitely a problem when you're confronted with a cheese plate. We had no idea what we were eating. Same with the amuse bouche. I'd love to know what some of the little bits floating at the top were, but, alas, they shall remain a mystery. We had to wait at least 25 minutes after our salads were cleared for the mains to come out, which is a kitchen problem, not a service one, but nobody ever came over to tell us what was going on, or to apologise for the wait, and the person who did finally go to check on the food's status wasn't even our waitress.

Will the service issues keep me from going back there? No, certainly not. But I do long for these wrinkles to be ironed out, because if the service matched up with the food, than dining here would be more than just very good, it would be simply sublime.

The Pantry

1-2 North West Circus Place
thepantryedinburgh.co.uk

Places to Eat: Angels With Bagpipes

Once upon a time, it was enough for a restaurant to just churn out good food. But then the foodie culture invaded, everyone became a critic on their blogs, and the ante was upped. To be considered a really good restaurant, it wasn't enough to simply get your duck breast perfectly medium rare or your braises fork-tender. Now, your plates needed to look like they belonged on the wall of a museum. And a little whimsy in the dishes doesn't hurt either, as long as it doesn't go too far (caramel with scallops? I don't think so...)

Angels With Bagpipes on the Royal Mile is a restaurant that understands the world it's operating in. Not too formal (it does draw in a lot of tourists schlepping about in jeans and comfortable shoes, after all), but nice enough for a special evening out, and each plate that appears is an absolute delight to see and taste. Whimsy? You've got it (with a name like that, how could this place not be a bit playful?), enough to please adventurous eaters like myself, my husband, and my parents, but the menu's not so out there my rather traditional meat-and-potatoes-loving grandmother couldn't find plenty of dishes that whetted her appetite.

We were in just before Christmas, a busy time for everyone, not least the restaurants of Edinburgh, and yet there was no sense of rush or anxiety in the atmosphere or in the cheerful, laid back, but highly efficient waitstaff. We settled in with some cocktails while we perused the menu--and if you can, seriously check out the cocktail menu, it's fantastic.

As is the food. On our first pass at the restaurant, for my birthday in November, my husband ordered the smoked trout pate while I pounced on the scallops and black pudding. The pate was lovely, not too overwhelmingly smoky, just a bit fishy, a tough balance to strike. Our only complaint was that there was a lot of it, and not quite enough toasts served alongside. My scallop dish was almost too pretty to eat, the succulent, perfectly seared mollusks scattered amidst a tangle of tart, julienne apples and tiny cubes of fried black pudding. The tart apples and the dabs of sauce helped cut the richness of both the scallops and the pudding. Every bite was pure joy; I couldn't recommend it highly enough to the family. This time around, I opted for the butternut squash soup, which was charmingly poured at the table from the teeniest glass teapot I've ever seen. The velvety soup was paired with a rich duck-filled tortellini and a soya jelly that was pleasantly surprising. Other winners at the table were the beef tartare (served traditionally, with a quail's egg, because why mess with a classic?) and the goat's cheese with beetroot, walnuts, and mustard.

Main courses, like the rest of the menu, draw on what's seasonal and locally available. In November I opted for the lamb, cooked beautifully and served with pearl barley and sweetbreads. This time I was in a venison mood. Once again, it was cooked perfectly and was marvellously comforting on a chilly winter's night. They serve part of the neck with the dish, which is brave, because neck can be a tough piece of meat if not treated well. They treat it very well here, slow cooking it for more than a day so it's fall-apart tender and succulent. The fish dishes--bream and trout--were beautiful and delicious as well, but I feel the meats were the real standouts.

Puddings are usually where restaurants like this really let their hair down and have some fun experimenting, and AwB doesn't let you down. I'd strongly recommend the Cranachan. Their playful take on the classic Scottish sweet is served with a Glenmorangie parfait, freeze-dried raspberries that pack a serious flavour punch, and the most amazing, dissolve-on-your-tongue marshmallow you've ever had in your entire life. The panna cotta with raspberry and rosewater sorbet and a Victoria sponge was flavourful but a little stiffer than it should have been. I longed to see what their idea of the Christmas pudding was like, but alas, I was just recovering from a terrible stomach bug and thought it best not to risk it. Next year!

AwB isn't cheap, but it's definitely worth it. The food's amazing, the atmosphere soothing, and the wine and whisky lists impressive. For anyone looking to treat themselves at the end of a day spent sightseeing or have a lovely date night with a loved one, this is an excellent spot to consider.

Crafty Christmas: Wee Stocking Garland

The thing with being a knitter is, eventually, you'll find yourself with all these little bits of yarn that aren't enough for a full-scale project. So, you have to find itty bitty projects for them instead. The charm of the itty bitties is that they're just so darn cute you want to keep making them, and they come together so fast (I was able to churn one of these out in the time it took to watch an episode of Revenge) that you can crank out a lot of them in a pretty short period. I thought, at first, that I'd be making little ornaments for the tree, but as stocking after stocking came out, I thought, 'hey, why not make a garland for the mantelpiece?'

And that's just what I ended up with.

Cute, huh? And pretty simple, too, especially for those who already know a bit about making socks. I got the pattern out of a book called Socks, Socks, Socks, and it can be easily adapted to other needle sizes and use whatever colours you have on hand. Have fun!

Wee Stockings Garland

Tools
1 set of 4 size 1 (US) double point needles
lace yarn or a couple of strands of a 4-ply sportweight yarn in the colours of your choice

Leg: Cast on 20 stitches and divide between 3 needles. Work K1P1 rib for 3 rounds, then switch to stocking stitch. Knit 15 rounds.

Heel: Slip 1st 10 stitches of the next row onto 1 needle, set other 10 stitches aside. Working only with the stitches on needle 1, work as follows: (RS) *Sl 1 K1; repeat from * (WS) Sl1, purl across row. Repeat these two rows until a total of 11 rows have been worked.

Turn Heel: Continue on 1st 10 stitches, starting with a WS row. P5, p2 together, p1. Turn work. Sl1, k1, ssk, k1. Turn work. Sl 1, p2, p2tog, p1. Turn work. Sl 1, k3, ssk, k1. 6 stitches remain. Do not turn.

With a spare needle, pick up and knit 4 stitches along the side of the heel and slip them to the first double-point needle. Knit 10 stitches across the instep of the stocking and hold on a second needle. Pick up and knit 4 stitches along the other side of the heel, then knit 3 heel stitches. There are 24 stitches total, and the beginning of the round is at the centre of the heel.

On the first needle, knit to the last 2 stitches, k2tog, knit across 2nd needle, ssk the first two stitches on 3rd needle, k to end of round. Work 1 round even, then repeat the decrease round. Repeat these two rounds until a total of 16 stitches remain.

Work foot even until it measures 1 1/2" from back of heel.

Toe: Slip 1 stitch from the beginning of needle 2 to needle 1; slip 1 stitch from the end of needle 2 to needle 3. There are now 8 stitches on needle two and 4 each on needles 1 and 3. On first needle, knit to last 2 stitches, k2tog; on 2nd needle, ssk, k to last 2 stitches, k2tog. On 3rd needle, ssk, k to end. Work 1 round even. Repeat these two rounds until 8 stitches remain. Break yarn and graft stitches together.

When you're done all your little stockings, cut a length of yarn or thin ribbon the length you'd like and string them on, knotting to keep them in place. Hang and let everyone admire your handiwork!

Charity Begins on the High Street

If you're the do-gooding type (or just looking to give back a bit during the holidays), you're in luck: it's almost impossible not to give back over here.

I think of the States and, aside from Goodwill, I can't name a single store off the top of my head that sells things in order to raise money for a charity. I'm sure they exist, I just can't think of any that are country-wide. But here, every charity has a shop on the high street, and they're actually pretty great. One of our favourite bookshops supports Oxfam, and that's one of about ten charity shops in our immediate neighbourhood. They sell everything from clothes to furniture and nick-knacks. This time of year, they even sell adorable Christmas cards and wrapping paper.

And that's not the only way to give back while giving to yourself: this year, we're buying our Christmas tree from an organisation called Caring Christmas Trees, which donates the profits from the trees to an Edinburgh homeless shelter. It's not as if the trees are really expensive, either. And if that doesn't do, the trees they're selling at our farmers' market raise money for a children's charity.

Maybe it makes us a bit lazy, because we don't really have to put much effort into finding a charity to support, mail off a cheque, etc. But it's nice to have an opportunity to give back so easily, especially with things we're going to be buying anyway. I know I feel a bit warmer and fuzzier knowing that my tree will help give someone a hot meal, rather than contributing to the Christmas bonus of the CEO of Home Depot.

And now, I'm off to Oxfam to look for some books!

St Andrew's Day

Happy St Andrew’s Day! Today Scotland raises a dram (and rolls out the fireworks) to the country’s patron saint.

Andrew’s been the patron saint of Scotland since about the middle of the 10th century. According to legend, his relics were brought to the Pictish king, Oengus mac Fergusa, in the 8th century. Around 100 years later, Oengus II led an army of Picts and Scots into battle against the Angles, which were under the command of Aethelstan, near modern-day Athelstaneford, East Lothian. The heavily outnumbered Oengus vowed to appoint Saint Andrew patron saint of Scotland if he won the battle. The next day, as the armies were forming, white clouds formed an X in the sky.

Kind of like this

 Guess who won the battle? Oengus stood by his word and Andrew became Scotland’s patron saint. The allegedly divine cloud formation was immortalised on Scotland’s flag, the Saltire. The X was also used by superstitious Scots to keep witches from flying down their chimneys.
Thanks Andrew! Now, off to the castle for the party!

Stir-Up Sunday

Happy Stir-Up Sunday! It's time to officially kick off the holiday season--starting with dessert. Those Christmas puddings need time to mature and develop their flavours (some people actually make them more than a year in advance), so pull out those pudding basins and steamers and let's get to work!

Christmas pudding has its origins in the medieval period and is also traditionally known as plum pudding, though it doesn't typically have plums in it (the plum pudding term is probably because the Victorians used to refer to raisins (which are always part of the ingredients list) as plums). In the medieval period, the Catholic church decreed that a 'pudding should be made on the 25th Sunday after trinity, that it be prepared with 13 ingredients to represent Christ and the 12 apostles, and that every family member stir it in turn from east to west to honour the Magi and their supposed journey in that direction.' Nowadays, we give it a stir in any direction and make a wish. The traditional pudding recipe took its form in Victorian England, when people would either boil it in a pudding cloth (resulting in the nostalgic round shape) or pack it into a pudding basin for steaming, as we do now.

The nice thing about this pudding is that, although there are some traditional elements you may want to keep, it's pretty versatile. Feel free to play with the fruits you include--dried cherries and candied ginger are delicious additions, and I even tossed in a bit of leftover homemade cranberry sauce that I had around after our wee Thanksgiving on Thursday, just to see what would happen. I also soaked the vine fruits overnight in some Christmas Orange tea I picked up from Anteaques. Have a little fun with it, and don't forget to make a wish!

Christmas Pudding

Adapted from Delia Smith
400g mixed vine fruits
brandy or strong black tea for soaking
4 oz (110g) shredded suet
2 oz (50g) self-raising flour
4 oz (110g) white breadcrumbs
1 tsp ground mixed spice
1/4 tsp freshly grated nutmeg
good pinch ground cinnamon
8 oz soft dark brown sugar
1 oz (25g) mixed candied peel, finely chopped
1 oz (25g) slivered almonds
1 oz (25 g) candied ginger, chopped
1 oz (25 g) prunes, chopped
1 small cooking apple, peeled, cored, and grated or finely chopped
grated zest and juice of 1/2 large orange
grated zest of 1/2 lemon
2T rum, brandy, or whisky
5 fl oz (150 ml) stout
2 large eggs

Pour the brandy or the strong (brewed about 10 minutes) tea over the vine fruits and let sit overnight. The next morning, drain and set aside.

In the largest bowl you have, combine suet, flour, breadcrumbs, spices, and sugar. Mix in the dried fruit, mixed peel, nuts, and ginger, followed by the apple and zests. Mix thoroughly.

In a smaller basin, mix the eggs and all liquid ingredients. Pour over the dry ingredients and mix thoroughly. Call in family members for help and wishes. Once it's mixed (it'll be a fairly wet and sloppy mix), cover the bowl with clingfilm and let sit overnight so the flavours meld.

Butter a 1.2-litre pudding basin and put a small circle of greased parchment paper in the bottom. Scoop in the pudding mixture and cover the basin with baking parchment and foil. Tie securely with a string and place in a steamer for 8 hours. For those without a steamer, put an upended saucer in a large pot with a tight-fitting lid, place the pudding in the pot, fill up halfway with hot water, put the lid on, and boil away for 8 hours, checking back periodically and topping up with more boiling water as needed.

Remove the pudding from the steamer or pot and let cool completely. Refresh the parchment paper and foil and leave in a cool, dark place until Christmas. When ready to serve, flame with brandy or serve with holly and sifted icing sugar.

Happy Christmas!

Remembrance Day

On 11 November 1918, World War I--the horrific conflict everyone hoped would end all wars--ended with the signing of the Armistice in France. Ever since, the millions dead in that conflict and the ones that came before and after have been lovingly remembered on the eleventh day of the eleventh month. For weeks leading up to the day, poppy brooches start appearing on lapels--cheap paper ones picked up when you donate some pocket change to the Poppy Appeal, or more permanent ones that are crocheted or enameled and brought out every year. These bright little flowers are not only reminders of the lives lost, but are also the symbol of the British Legion's annual Remembrance Day fundraiser, which raises money for wounded vets and their families.They hope to raise 42 million pounds this year.

In the U.S., today is celebrated as Veterans' Day, and while there are some somber activities of remembrance, it seems like a much quieter day than it is here. It's easier to overlook it, because there seem to be few visual reminders in the days leading up to it. Here in Edinburgh--and elsewhere in the U.K., there's a Garden of Remembrance. Spreading out from the Scott Memorial on Prince's Street is row upon row of small wooden crosses studded with a single paper poppy, planted in memory of someone who made the ultimate sacrifice for their country. The first of these gardens was started at Westminster in 1928; there were only two crosses that year. This year, you'll find them in Wootton Basset, Belfast, Cardiff, and Newcastle, as well as London and Edinburgh. There's also one at the Menin Gate Memorial in Ypres, France. Anyone can dedicate a cross to a loved one who died, and include a personal message. It's a very moving, beautiful, and sobering memorial.

Traditionally, there's a two-minute silence at 11 a.m. No matter where you are, take a moment to remember the fallen and be thankful for all our veterans have done for us.