Restaurant review: Redwood Restaurant

Published on Wednesday 21 January 2009 09:04

33a St Stephen's Street, Stockbridge, Edinburgh (0131-225 8342) THE BILL Dinner for two, £54.90, including tea or coffee (BYOB, corkage £4)

ACCORDING to dieticians, each of us gains around four and a half pounds over the festive period. If you want to do some creative visualisation with me, then you can either picture this weight as the equivalent of two bags of sugar which have become stuck to our saddlebags, or eight baking potatoes which have been stuffed up our Christmas jumpers.

You can probably tell that I'm feeling a bit oddly misshapen this January, which is why I was so pleased to stumble upon Redwood Restaurant – a comparatively healthy "Californian-style" eatery on one of Stockbridge's quaintest streets. Of course, I wasn't likely to lose my love handles on a visit but, at this point, I had set my sights on damage limitation.

To get to this new place, you head along St Stephen Street – past the quirky antiques place, an art gallery and vintage clothes boutique, before nipping down to a little basement. Already, you feel like you're part of an esoteric "Sausalito-esque" neighbourhood – and that sense is only accentuated when the lovely girls who work here (one Irish, two American) usher you to your pew and chat welcomingly.

After a quick scan of the set menu – 20.95 for two courses, 25.95 for three, both including coffee or tea – my partner, Rolf (who wasn't feeling quite as lumpy as me) chose the less virtuous-sounding five-spiced smoked chicken from the menu, while I smugly opted for the mixed baby green salad.

When my starter arrived, I was a bit put-off by an intimidatingly huge pile of shrubbery. However, this winter salad turned out to be so delicious that I didn't even worry about the shreds of spinach and lamb's lettuce getting stuck in my teeth. Among those temptingly fresh and bouncy newborn leaves were some generous chunks of goat's cheese and caramelised spiced pecans. Then, taking this salty/sweet combination to another level, was a zingy tartness provided by some grilled slices of persimmon fruit, and a fresh and appley riesling vinaigrette. Over the top of the whole shebang was a sprinkling of what looked like rubies, but turned out to be glistening pomegranate seeds.

Rolf also had a handful of these edible gems on his slices of chicken breast, which were bathed in a warming ginger dressing and set on a bed of roasted carrot and lentils.

"That was really wintry and comforting, but light and fresh too," was his happy comment, as our ears tuned in to their sunny West Coast soundtrack (featuring the Beach Boys).

For mains, I fell off the detox wagon a little, in order to have the Scottish roe deer tenderloin (3 supplement), while Rolf picked what I should have gone for – the herb-crusted haddock. His choice was fabulously colourful – there was the deep red and orange of a beetroot and citrus salsa, the chicory brown of wild rice, the bright greens of topped and tailed green beans and the snowy white flesh of a moist fillet of fish. Plus, it tasted just as healthy as it looked, but without an iota of self-denial.

However, I think I won the "who makes the best choices prize" with my course. It featured a generous portion of sliced pink venison, which was soaking in an unctuous cranberry and chipotle (smoked Jalapeno and tomato) sauce, which was as black as crude oil. The main sidekick to this course was a pat of cornbread stuffing (which tasted a bit like polenta to me), alongside a helping of sauted chard which, with its iodine-like taste, is definitely my new fave winter vegetable.

When it came to the final course, any pretence about this being a healthy eating exercise had been binned. After all, what sane person can resist a cheesecake with berries and Cointreau caramel? Not me – and I'm glad I didn't hold back – as it was the kind of pud that tasted like it had been made with affection. You see, the golden pastry was beautifully crumbly and someone in the kitchen obviously isn't scared of applying a bit of elbow-grease, as the cheesy topping was wonderfully light.

Still, despite my excellent pud, my fork also kept straying towards Rolf's equally tasty dessert – a tart with slices of green-skinned fig that was so pretty it could be a centrefold pin-up in a foodie magazine. On top of this sweet pastry were the perfect props of a spoonful of lemon and rosemary-spiked mascarpone, plus a sparing squeeze of organic honey.

After all that seductive food, I think Rolf and I were both a little bit in love with the chef at Redwood Restaurant (native Californian Annette Sprague). This place is already as good (if not better) than the well-established Calistoga chain of Californian restaurants in the capital – although both feature a similar kind of healthy, non-pretentious food, with an emphasis on local-produce and an Asian/American/ Mexican slant. Also, as it's currently unlicensed, it's BYOB (corkage 4). However, what's most unusual for us tattie-loving Scots is finding a place in the capital that doesn't feature a single white potato on the menu (but Redwood doesn't leave you craving a trip to the chippy on the way home). Still, to be honest, that's just as well – I've got quite enough King Edward-shaped lumps under my new Christmas sweater already.