"The most beautiful restaurant in the world."

That's how Andrew Lloyd Webber once described The Witchery in Edinburgh, Scotland. Located a few doors down from the very touristy Edinburgh Castle, this fine dining spot boasts a traditional Scottish fare with a decadent twist. My dad and I waltzed in, exhausted from climbing all the way up to High Street (it's high, yep) from our hotel on Grassmarket. Really that's only about half a mile, but vertically I'd guesstimate at least 800 feet. We were underdressed, but it was no problem, and neither was our lack of reservation (though we had to be finished eating by 8:00, said the host). Once seated, I took in the surroundings--lavish wooden walls that looked like they bore a great history, a single red leather bench that snaked around the entire perimeter, and beautiful table settings fit for a king.


I started with the haggis, neaps, and toddies, for, "when in Rome..." Now, it may look like a pile of dirt (it does really look like a pile of dirt), but haggis is seriously the best thing I've tried in--maybe ever! What is it? Aged mutton (sheep's meat), generously spiced and salted. It has the consistency of hamburger meat, but it is much more tender. Neaps are the turnips, and toddies are potatoes. At The Witchery, the turnips are pureed and the toddies fried. The fat content of sheep meat must be incredible, because I could not stop eating it.


For my main course, I tried the "pig's cheek", stuffed with "black pudding" and wrapped in Serrano ham. Don't know what black pudding is; don't particularly want to know. On the side were some roasted pears and a nice sauce reminiscent of hollandaise, minus the lemon. It tasted like pig, all right. I was trying to be adventuresome, but overall, it was a bit too sweet and lacked any acid. Oh it wasn't bad, but the REAL treat of the night was...


DESSERT! Oh my god dessert. For 10 pounds, one gets to try the whole array of sweets that The Witchery offers. I failed to get a great picture, but all of them were so amazing that I must include this one.

The first one (and best one...well, it's difficult to tell when it's your first, as your palate gets sort of ruined) was a sort of creme brulee, except instead of sugar, it had heathered honey! Amazingly delicate with a really nice finish, my dad and I literally fought over bites. It was rough. Then there were two ice creams: one of "mulled winter fruits" and cinnamon, and the other a nice chocolate. I love fragrant ice cream, and the mulled winter fruits reminded me of lavender. In the background, you'll see an orange custard. The shot glass was much too small for our small sugar spoon. In my best British, I asked the waiter, "Now how do you suppose I eat that?" He got me a smaller spoon. It still didn't suffice. So, my dad and I were all clever and drunken and turned the spoon around to scrape out the last lovely bit (and the only orange flavoring to the custard). The chocolate mousse you see in the foreground wasn't too rich, nor too light. It was sort of a heavy pudding rather than a mousse, but not the almost-hard-they're-so-thick-with-chocolate cakes you'll see in other restaurants. The strawberries with a small piece of shortbread on the top was unusually sweet and really delicious, providing a nice tartness to the platter of sugar. We finished with the layered raspberry dessert, and good thing, because it was the least memorable of the bunch (though very pretty).

Overall, an excellent meal and experience. The night ended up with some amazingly thin and flavorless ale and Gin--the card game, that is--at Maggie Dickson's. The story of Maggie Dickson is quite fascinating. Essentially, she was buried alive! You'll have to read the rest on Wikipedia; it's too long to tell, and I haven't got any of the details. But honestly, who likes Guinness that's tried "real beer"? I've gotten quite used to the Holland and Belgium beers, Amstel, Leffe, Hoegaarden...i.e., beers with spice, bitterness...anything! Guinness may be dark, but it tastes like water with a bit of bread or yeast in it. Just nothing. However, I still insist that America makes the best beer. I miss me some IPA. Or any kind of ale, for that matter--besides this watery English bullshit. I've even gotten over Newcastle, which used to be my standby at low-selection outlets. Too watery!

This blog is inspired by Kate Williams' entries at http://sea-salted.blogspot.com/. Hope you enjoyed my first post!