July 2013 - Scrumptious Scran

Recipe: Crab and prawn croquetas

Picture of crab and prawn croquetas with lemon slice and a glass of beer.

Hot croquetas, warm day, cool beer, perfection!

A couple of posts ago on Scrumptious Scran, I reviewed José Pizarro’s excellent cookbook of Spanish cuisine, Spanish Flavours. Following on from the review, I really wanted to try one of the recipes from the book for the blog; proof of the pudding (or pagination) is, after all, in the eating. So packed is Spanish Flavours with alluring recipes, one might think my choice of what to cook would be a tricky one, but this wasn’t the case at all. Newly armed with my trusty deep fryer, I knew I was going to attempt my take on José’s recipe for crab and prawn croquetas.

Whenever I’m lucky enough to be in Spain, or in a decent Spanish restaurant in the UK, I always make a habit of sampling croquetas, where these are on offer. And to be frank, you would be hard pressed to find a Spanish bar or restaurant that doesn’t serve some version of this tasty little tapa, so ubiquitous is the dish throughout Spain. Crisp and golden on the outside, yet soft, moist and flavour-packed on the inside, the beauty of croquetas lies both in their simplicity and versatility. Fundamentally, all a croqueta consists of is a thick béchamel sauce with assorted ingredients added to flavour this. This mixture is then chilled, formed into lozenge shapes, coated in breadcrumbs and deep fried.

They key to making decent croquetas is ensuring the béchamel sauce is suitably thick but silky smooth, and choosing an appropriately flavoursome additive to incorporate in this. And there are many such ingredients from which to choose. I’ve sampled delicious chicken croquetas in Barcelona, ones flavoursomely made with Serrano ham and Manchego cheese, in Madrid, and a fantastically fishy variety containing bacaloa (salt cod), in Seville. To be honest, it’s possible – within reason – to enhance a croqueta with whatever flavouring ingredient takes one’s fancy. Also, every bar and kitchen will have its own tweaks for each basic croqueta variety, making for a joyful pastime that is bar hopping and trying to asses which serves the best.

Croquetas ready for breadcrumg coating, then frying.

“Lozenges” ready for breadcrumbs, then frying.

And speaking of tweaks, I slightly altered the recipe below from the one for crab and prawn croquetas featured in Spanish Flavours. I have include dill instead of parsley (I just happened to have some in the fridge at the time), and infused the milk with a bouquet garni consisting of a celery stalk with a couple of sprigs of thyme and a fresh bay leaf tied to it. I suppose that, if an even more intense seafood flavour was desired, the prawns could be substituted for brown shrimp, or even finely chopped, cooked mussels. The tastey possibilities are almost endless…

This recipe will make around 35 individual croquetas, which is enough to serve 6-8 in one sitting. However, once the béchamel has been formed into the croquetas lozenges, these can be frozen for a few weeks for defrosting and frying at a later date.

Ingredients

500ml of whole milk (infused with a bouquet garni of herbs if desired)
150ml of fresh chicken of vegetable stock
85g butter
115g plain flour
125g fresh white crab meat (I used locally-caught, Scottish crab)
100g of cooked peeled prawns, finely chopped
1 tablespoon of dill (or parsley) finely chopped
2 large, free-range eggs
200g breadcrumbs, made from stale, crustless white bread
Salt and pepper, to taste

Preparation and cooking

Put the milk and stock in a large saucepan (together with the bouquet garni, if using) and bring to almost boiling. Melt the butter in another pan over a low heat, stir in the flour and cook gently for around 5 minutes, using a wooden spoon to break up the mixture as it cooks. Make sure the mixture doesn’t burn!
Very gradually beat in the milk and stock mixture, giving a really good beating between each addition. The mixture should become silky smooth using this technique. Increase the heat very slightly and cook gently – stirring constantly – for about 5-7 minutes, in order to cook out the flour.
Remove the pan from the heat and allow the mixture to cool for a minute or so before stirring in the crab meat, prawns and dill, together with a good amount of salt and (white) pepper, to taste. Transfer the mixture to a shallow dish, spread out to form an even layer and press a sheet of clingfilm onto the surface to prevent a skin from forming. Allow to cool before chilling for two hours, or preferably overnight.
Put the beaten eggs and breadcrumbs into separate, shallow dishes. Lightly oil the palms of your hands and roll 1½ tablespoons (around a 30g portion) of the chilled mixture into balls and then form them into zeppelin-shaped lozenges. Refrigerate your 35 or so croqueta bases for 15-30 minutes.
Heat up oil in a deep fryer to 190°C. Dip the croquetas 4-5 at a time into the beaten egg and then the breadcrumbs and deep fry in batches for 2 minutes, until crisp and golden. Transfer briefly to plenty of kitchen paper to drain, whilst the remaining batches are cooked. Serve hot, accompanied by a slice of lemon.

Spanish Flavours, by José Pizarro, is published by Kyle Books, and is available in hardback at £19.99.

July 31, 2013 By Scrumptious Scran

bar/ Edinburgh/ food/ pub/ restaurant/ review

Edinburgh Restaurant Review: Prayers answered at The Safari Lounge

A wildly great pub lies inside.

If I were religious, I would swear my prayers had recently been answered. For years I have been chanting the mantra “please might someone open a decent pub, with really good food, somewhere between Jock’s Lodge and Leith Walk”. But Edinburgh’s equivalents of the goddesses Edesia and Bibesia must have been sat atop Arthur’s Seat with their fingers in their ears – until now!

For the last few weeks, as I trudged back and forth between Scrumptious Scran Towers and my place of work in central Edinburgh, I noted that the old Station Bar on Abbeyhill’s Cadzow Place – a very traditional Scottish boozer – had been shut for a bit of a repaint. Then the posters appeared in its picture windows, announcing the arrival of The Safari Lounge. Might this be, at last, a decent new boozer in Edinburgh’s East End? Praise the lord! Or lady, or whatever be your deity of choice.

So this Friday, JML and I dropped by to see what pleasures this revamped Victorian bar might hold. Oh my! Walking into the place it doesn’t immediately look like a lot has changed. There is still much of the dark brown tongue and groove and ornate plaster work in evidence, except the walls are painted a subtle tangerine and white – taken together all vaguely reminiscent of a liquorice allsort. The original wooden bar has gone (despatched to another venue, to allow the nine rotten joists that lay beneath it to be replaced, apparently). And at the end of its subtly trendy replacement is a small kitchen – but what a kitchen…

A busy bar and kitchen.

As we ordered drinks at the bar and scouted round for a table, it became apparent that the place is much bigger than I had realised, with a comfy, offset area to the rear of the bar, and a separate “Tiger Room” beyond that. Our drinks arrived – chosen from a great range of lagers and craft beers – together with a couple of menus. And that is when I realised why this place is confident enough to site an open kitchen at the end of the bar. At first glance it may appear a typical pub menu of salads, mezze, ‘lite bites’ hotdogs and burgers. Yet read on, and it isn’t just your standard bar food at all. It’s a menu put together with real care and thought.

So, we ordered a main each of a “Safari Dog” and a “Momo Fuku” Pork Bun, accompanied by a side of skinny fries and the intriguing “popcorn mussels” and watched mesmerically as the two chefs in the open kitchen grabbed ingredients and cooked and assembled the dishes before our eyes. Within ten minutes of ordering, the food arrived. JML had chosen what transpired to be very posh hotdog – a meaty, flavoursome sausage nestling in a brioche roll, drizzled in a mustard dressing and surrounded by a tangy onion and cider chutney. It was simply smashing. My shredded pork belly buns – there were two – consisted of beautifully succulent meat with vinaigrette coleslaw, all encased in ghostly white rice baps. Intriguing in how they looked, delicious in how they tasted. Both mains were served with a generous accompaniment of freshly prepared, perfectly dressed salad.

As to the sides? Well JML’s fries were skinny and crispy as described, and came as an ample portion. My popcorn mussels were a revelation, however. Imagine a take on whitebait, but involving shellfish in tempura batter accompanied by home-made tartar sauce. Crisp on the outside and with a soft interior, packed with intense, slightly salty, seafood flavour. I need say no more.

Popcorn mussels & fizz.

As we were devouring our delicious fare, it became apparent that The Safari Lounge – which takes its name from the neon sign displayed in the window of its former incarnation, the Station Bar – has been the subject of a very clever makeover indeed. The banquets running along the walls are now covered in subtle, but stylish embossed khaki leather. The traditional tables and chairs are painted with dark black shellac, and the bar stools covered with cow hide. Having asked the, very friendly, bar staff for permission to take some photos for the review, I got chatting with Andy Caird, proprietor of The Safari Lounge. Caird has previously managed such esteemed Edinburgh stalwarts as Negotiant’s and Medina, and obviously knows what makes a winning venue.

“I set out to refresh the bar, but no more than necessary – I didn’t want to destroy the place’s character”, he told me. “It’s a similar approach with the food. I wanted a menu that wasn’t just typical pub fare, and that features dishes prepared with fresh ingredients. But at the same time, the pub and what it serves should offer something for everyone in the area.”

As I spoke to Andy, I noticed a couple of old boys – certainly regulars of the pub in its former incarnation – stood drinking at the bar, joking with the staff. At the same time, food was flying out of the kitchen and landing on the tables populated by cool-looking 20 and 30 somethings. The Safari Lounge certainly is a venue with loads to offer. If there is any justice, the gods will be smiling on it for a long time to come!

www.thesafarilounge.co.uk

Food – 8/10
Atmosphere -8/10
Service -8/10
Value – 8/10
Ambience – Expect a laid-back – yet busy, modern pub experience.

(N.B. the croquetas recipe mentioned in my last post, will be appearing on the blog in the very near future).

July 27, 2013 By Scrumptious Scran

book/ José Pizarro/ recipe/ review/ Spanish

Book Review: ‘Spanish Flavours’ to savour

An abundance of Spanish flavours under the cover.

Squinting through my sunglasses in Edinburgh this past weekend it was almost possible to imagine I was in the Mediterranean, as opposed to Scotland. Clear blue skies, glorious sunshine and – best of all – alfresco dining. Eating outside on a balmy summer’s day or evening is one of my favourite culinary pastimes – whether in the UK or somewhere more exotic, such as Italy or Spain. How appropriate then that I found myself sat in the green behind Scrumptious Scran Towers snacking on tapas whilst thumbing through Spanish Flavours, the latest book by Spanish-born and UK-based Chef, José Pizarro.

Growing up on a farm in the western Spanish region of Extremadura, it was whilst he was studying as a dental technician that Pizarro discovered his love for cooking. This lead to him attending cookery school, and ultimately a stint at Madrid’s award-winning restaurant Meson de Doña Filo where he cooked nuevacocina – the deconstructed approach to Spanish cuisine made famous by Ferran Adrià of El Bulli. Fourteen years ago Pizarro relocated to London in order to “try something different”. After achieving this as a key player behind London’s new wave of Spanish eateries such as Eyre Brothers, Gaudí and Brindisa he chose to open his own sherry and tapas bar José, closely followed by his restaurant Pizzaro. So much for the biography…

Regular readers will know that I love Spanish food, and in Spanish Flavours Pizarro demonstrates how well he knows his way around the mosaic-like cuisine which stem from what sometimes appears to be “…seventeen countries all rolled into one”. Identifying links between history and culture, climatic influences, and the use of common ingredients, the book examines in turn the recipes of Spain’s North, East, Centre, South and its Islands. And in doing so, in each chapter Pizarro provides a lyrical snapshot of the flavours, bars and restaurants, and dishes that make these regions so memorable.

As might be expected from an author grounded in nuevacocina, the recipes are not without a twist and turn, an invention that develops Spanish cooking in a slightly different direction. It’s subtle; the sort of tweaking that might traditionally have allowed one village to steal an edge over its neighbour when it came to claiming the best paella. Yet it’s an alchemy grounded in a mastery of really knowing how those ingredients exemplifying Spanish cooking truly work together.

Braised peas and jamón with eggs.

To be frank, whilst having read the book from cover to cover, I’m still in the early stages of working my way through cooking the abundance of recipes in Spanish Flavours – these things should be enjoyed and not rushed – but already several dishes have caught my eye. Griddled scallops with cauliflower purée and chorizo oil sounds like a delicious starter. Roasted monkfish with Serrano ham, black olives and thyme is a great take on “surf and turf”. Oxtail with cinnamon, red wine, sherry vinegar and prunes sounds warming and quite literally “Moorish”. Almond and honey creams with lemon verbena peaches, a perfect pudding. As you will see from my next post, my initial venture into exploring Spanish Flavours involved my first foray into cooking “proper” croquetas – with crab and prawn in this instance – which were delicious, and a favourite tapa of mine.

So if you are looking for an introduction to the cooking of Spain, its origins, and where it might be heading next, do seek out a copy of Spanish Flavours. I, for one, am very glad that José Pizarro chose not to stick with a career in dentistry!

Credit should also go to Emma Lee for the great photographs that illustrate the culture of Spain, and the recipes contained in the book.

Spanish Flavours is published by Kyle Books, and is available in hardback at £19.99.

July 24, 2013 By Scrumptious Scran

food politics/ food poverty/ Great British Budget Menu/ Jack Monroe

Feature: Time to stop treating food poverty lightly

Foodbanks are growing in the UK (pic. Trussell Trust)

I had a bit of a wobble last week. Not the kind generated by a panna cotta as it slips out of a mould and onto a plate, either. This wobble was about whether I should be blogging about food at all.

The impetus for my potential about turn in terms of food writing was last Thursday’s BBC1 programme The Great British Budget Menu. Part of a season examining the impact of the financial “squeeze” endured by many people in Britain as a result of the financial crash and government austerity, the premise of the programme was food poverty – but with a twist. As the title suggests, it borrowed elements from the popular Great British Menu series, but this time three “celebrity” chefs were dispatched to investigate how real people’s eating habits were impacted by their being on limited incomes. Having completed their investigations as to how practical (or otherwise) it is to eat nutritiously on a very restricted budget, said chefs then hosted a “budget banquet” – yes a banquet! – that saw them compete to cook the tastiest dish for assembled guests and judges, whilst spending just one pound per head.

Now, I am not criticising per se a programme that sets out to highlight food poverty, quite the reverse. Yet this was an hour long slot on prime-time TV that pretty much failed to effectively get behind the issues that result in so many people in the UK struggling to feed themselves adequately, and the urgent action that’s needed address this inequality.

Instead, we were greeted with a shot of chef James Martin motoring along in his top-of-the-range Audi to assess the dietary inadequacies of a pensioner on the breadline. There was some genuine discussion between chef Richard Corrigan and a family in the Midlands who only have £1.66 per person, per meal to feed each member, and chef Angela Hartnett and a single mother on minimum wage, whose skipping meals to ensure her daughter is adequately fed means she has lost three and a half stones in six months. But then we were treated to scenes that would be comedic – if the issue at hand wasn’t so serious – as each chef trawled round endless supermarket aisles trying, and failing, to shop for ingredients for a meal using the very tight budgets available to the people they had just met. It wasn’t a programme totally without empathy, but it could have been so much more incisive, as Jack Monroe – a women who blogs about how she tries to feed herself and her child healthily, but with minimum resources – so eloquently assesses.

Certainly the programme had a few, short “talking head” interviews with politicians from across the political spectrum, as well as the odd supermarket executive, but there was no real debate about the causes of, and real solutions to, food poverty. And a whole edition of Question Time should be dedicated to the debate as to why in 2013 nearly a fifth of the population of the world’s eighth richest country (in terms of GDP) finds itself battling food poverty. I think what angered me the most was when Prue Leith – chair of the panel judging the “budget banquet” dishes – announced that the programme proved that it is possible to cook well on “next to nothing”. Well yes Prue, I’m sure anything is possible with the support of professional catering facilities and a whole television production crew to throw at the challenge…

So, what was my “wobble” about, exactly? Well I have a passion about food – I wouldn’t be writing this if I didn’t. I’m currently what my Mother might describe as “comfortably off” – though that might change if I don’t find a new job before my current contract ends in September, but I digress. I don’t consider myself rich, but I’m someone who can put the odd treat in the trolley when doing a food shop, and who can also dine out at a nice restaurant now and again. I lap up the recipes and photos in food magazines, and am often tempted by the latest “must have” cook book.

I’m not alone in the behaviour outlined above, as many people share my interest in food and drink and, like me, quite a few write about it. Yet when living standards for many people in the UK – let alone elsewhere in the world – are so low (and still falling in real terms) that for them, eating properly becomes a real struggle which results in hundreds of thousands having to turn to food banks, is it justifiable to objectify and glamorise food? Are we right to elevate people who cook professionally (skilled though they be) into major media celebrities, and endlessly debate the merits of the” cro-nut”, whilst parents skip meals because they can’t afford to feed both themselves AND their children?

Maybe this isn’t the sort of post that would be expected from a typical food blog. But, to be honest, for me food and food blogging isn’t just about posh restaurants, soft focus photographs of cakes, and paying no heed as to where the food I am eating comes from. I believe we need a serious debate about the politics of food, in all its forms. That doesn’t mean food can’t be fun or enjoyable. But we simply cannot afford to ignore the increasing, often undesirable, issues that accompany nearly everything to do with what we eat, and how and why this gets to our plates.

And what’s more, I think it’s high time that anyone choosing to write about food gives some thought about the role they can play in driving forward this long overdue debate…

If you would like to know if there is a food bank operating in your area visit the Trussell Trust website – http://www.trusselltrust.org/map.

July 17, 2013 By Scrumptious Scran

chips/ deep fryer/ Feature/ frying/ healthy/ recipe

Feature & Recipe – Frying delight: When the chips are down…

Golden, crispy & NO brown sauce!

I have a guilty secret. I’ve been coveting a piece of kitchen kit for a while, one that doesn’t always have the best reputation as far as healthy eating is concerned. Last weekend, I finally transformed my latent desire into a tangible possession, with the purchase of my first deep fryer. A bargain in the sales, of course.

Please try not to judge me, being – as I am – someone who is (usually) an exponent of eating healthily and sustainably. I’m not about to recommend we all gorge ourselves on deep-fried Mars bars at every meal. Ideally, deep fried food shouldn’t really be at the centre of anyone’s diet.

Yet there are certain recipes that simply cannot be realistically completed without resorting to immersing ingredients into boiling fat (or preferably oil). Not previously being the owner of a deep fryer has meant I have been missing out on cooking such delights as tempura, salt and pepper squid, croquetas, and “proper” chips (fries, to those of you who are west of the Atlantic).

Now before anyone butts in, I know it isn’t always necessary to have a dedicated appliance to deep fry food. But heating up oil in a big saucepan on a stove, and trying to guess how hot it is – with potential disastrous consequences – is not for me. Knowing exactly at what temperature you are frying food is really important in ensuring proper cooking, and also limits the degree of oil that will be absorbed. That’s why I am the proud owner of a shiny new frying device that allows fantastic cooking control, thanks to its nice big variable thermostat. So, having removed the packaging and given the components a good wash, my next task was to decide what I was going to fry first.

Silver dream machine…

Chips! Well, it might have been an obvious choice, but these would not be just any old chips, oh no. To accompany the oxtail braised in Rioja that was at the centre of Sunday dinner, I wanted the sort of fries that came with this dish when I sampled it in Spain. They had to be golden brown and perfectly crisp on the outside, with an interior that was soft, fluffy and moist.

Now there are endless opinions on how to produce the perfect fried chip. Each favours a particular preference in relation to potato variety, frying medium, and the temperature and number of cycles involved in the cooking. Christopher Hirst’s article in The Independent about his efforts to achieve the gastronomic paragon that is the perfect chip – thankfully, without the suggested use of horse fat – provides an excellent background in relation to these.

So, having considered the options, I choose to “do a Heston” and thrice cook my chips – once par boiled in salted water and then twice fried in oil. Blumenthal’s recipe (from In Search of Perfection) is a bit involved, but it truly does produce amazing chips. I shall maybe use a little less salt in the water the next time I try it, as the blanching meant that my chunky fries certainly didn’t need any further seasoning, but that’s all part of the alchemy.

Of course, I won’t be attempting to refine the recipe for a while – health, health, health!

This recipe (thanks to Heston Blumenthal and Christopher Hirst) will make sufficient chips for 2-3 people. It is best to fry in small batches, especially if using a small fryer.

Peel, then chunkily chip 400-500g potatoes, washing them thoroughly.

Bring a large pan of salted water to the boil. Add the chips and return to boil, immediately reducing to gentle simmer (no bubbles) for 8-10 minutes. Strain and leave in the pan to encourage any remaining water to evaporate.
Transfer to cool on a cake rack. When cool, chill in fridge.
Heat your oil (I used sunflower oil, which is ideal for deep frying) to 130C. Using mesh basket, fry chips for nine minutes.
Remove the basket, shake, and allow to drain. Cool the chips on a cake rack, then chill in the fridge.
Just before you are ready to eat, heat oil to 190C. Use a mesh basket to fry chips for a maximum of 2-3 minutes until golden. Cooking times can vary depending on the fryer and potato varieties so keep a close eye on the colour of chips. Drain the chips, then spread on double layer of kitchen paper. Serve immediately.

July 10, 2013 By Scrumptious Scran

Bite magazine/ Edinburgh/ Leith/ restaurant/ review/ Scottish/ Seafood

Bite Magazine review: A happy return to The Shore

Beautiful hake on courgettes, Puy lentils & pancetta.

My second review for Bite Magazine has just appeared on the publication’s website, and will hopefully also feature in the August print edition of the magazine. This time JML and I had the pleasure to return to one of our old stomping grounds, The Shore Bar and Restaurant located, appropriately enough, in Leith’s Shore district. You can read a wee taster of the review below, and the full article can be found on Bite Magazine‘s website.

A happy return to The Shore

Re-acquaintance with a lost friend can be a marvellous thing. And such was the case when I recently revisited The Shore. Previously a regular haunt of mine, walking into the elegant oak-panelled and mirror-adorned bar that adjoins the restaurant, the welcome was as warm as I remembered.

Heavenly chocolate brownie & caramelised banana.

Looking over the menu, we enjoyed an aperitif whilst awaiting our table – nice to see a place buzzing on a dreich Tuesday. The restaurant (now part of the Fishers group) offers inventive fare featuring Scottish ingredients, with seafood at the centre of a number of dishes.

Seated beside the restaurant’s huge windows, my dining partner and I had high hopes for our starters. We were not disappointed. My squid with chorizo, chickpeas and roast peppers (£6) had a great balance of flavours. Tender seafood, moist pimentón sausage and earthy pulses worked beautifully with a fruity tang and chilli heat. Across the table was a hockey-puck of ham and potato hash cake (£5.75), crisped in breadcrumbs, and generously adorned with hollandaise and poached egg. Real comfort food!

Mains were slightly more eclectic…

Read the full review at: http://bit.ly/11mhcUe

A ‘Shore’ welcome.

July 5, 2013 By Scrumptious Scran

beer/ burger/ Edinburgh/ pub/ review/ Simon Howie

Review: Holyrood 9a – Great Beer & Burgers in the ‘Burgh

Trad meets mod at the bar.

Located just a stone’s throw from Edinburgh’s Royal Mile, Holyrood 9a is a “must visit” if you like decent, reasonably priced pub food, and you are also partial real ale. Combining dark wood panelling, period ceilings and wood-burning stoves with an “industrial chic” bar and lighting, this is most definitely a welcoming establishment that is rarely quiet. A Staff that is friendly and knowledgeable also adds to the pub’s positive ambience.

First time visitors will be struck by the choice of craft beers – hailing from across the UK and even further afield – that are, somewhat unusually, served from the back of the imposing stainless steel and glass bar. A full menu of guest keg and cask ales is displayed on the blackboard at the pub’s entrance, and it’s possible to partake of a 1/3 pint taster before purchasing a full pint of any unfamiliar brew. Decent lagers are in abundance too, with Peroni, Pilsner Urquell, Cobra and Kozel amongst those available on draft, and as if this weren’t enough the pub also stocks nearly 30 bottled ciders and beers. Holyrood 9a also holds a very decent range of wines and spirits for those not so keen on beer.

Burger, fries & ‘slaw – resistance is futile…

However, a fine selection of drinks is only half of Holyrood 9a’s appeal, as the venue also offers a great menu of decent pub food, ensuring its shoe-box sized kitchen is always busy. Dominating a pretty extensive menu are the pub’s ‘Gourmet’ burgers which come in a substantial range of variations – from traditional beef through to lamb, pork and chorizo, and even including four vegetarian options. The menu indicates that the meat patties are sourced from leading Scottish butcher, Simon Howie and whatever the base of the burger you decide upon this will be augmented by a substantial array of accompanying sauces and toppings. Your burger of choice lands at your table encased by a toasted sourdough bun and served with sides of fries and home-made coleslaw, all rather trendily arranged on a wooden chopping board.

And for pudding?

But if you don’t fancy a burger, the menu also offers a smaller range of other choices – such as salads, grills and sharing boards – to tickle your fancy, as well as some tasty, rib-sticking desserts. And what makes the menu even more appetising is the fact that – with the exception of the grill options – all dishes come in at under £10 each. For any early risers – or those looking to aid their recovery from the excesses of the night before – the menu also has an excellent breakfast section which is served each day until noon.

Holyrood 9a certainly does seem to have got the formula spot on in terms of what makes an alluring and reasonably priced “pub that does good grub”, so-much-so that if you are planning on visiting as a group it’s worthwhile booking ahead as the place can be mobbed, especially at weekends. So if you find yourself in central Edinburgh and in need of a nice craft-brewed pint and a fantastically tasty burger, do be sure to call in at 9a Holyrood Road.

Food – 7.5/10

Atmosphere -7.5/10

Service -7.5/10

Value – 7/10

Ambience – Expect a laid-back – yet busy, high-end pub experience.

Bar photo courtesy of the Holyrood 9a website.

July 3, 2013 By Scrumptious Scran

I love food. I love cooking it. I love eating it. I’m also quite partial to the odd tipple, too. As I make my living from communications, I thought it might also be a good idea to write about my passion for food and drink. Scrumptious Scran is my way of sharing my gastronomic musings, reviews and recipes. If you would like to suggest an eatery or product for review, contact me at the following email address, and I will do my best to write about it. foodie@scrumptiousscran.co.uk