Restaurant Review: The Secret Garden at The Witchery by the Castle

Published on Wednesday 11 February 2009 10:47

WHAT REALLY div-ides the sexes is the fact that men have no concept of how difficult it is to walk up the Royal Mile in high heels.

The Secret Garden at The Witchery by the Castle,

The Royal Mile,

Edinburgh

(0131-225 5613)

THE Bill

Dinner for two, 88.70, excluding drinks

"Where are you?" said Rolf, when he rang me from the top of Castlehill. I was late for our rendezvous even after hobbling at speed over far too many cobblestones than was good for my ankles. As we were having a romantic dinner deux in The Secret Garden at The Witchery, the dress code was try-a-bit-harder-than-usual; my pay-off was the sight of my beloved in a smart suit.

Once we'd arrived at our destination, I favoured a "crab-style", sideways manoeuvre to tackle the stone staircase, which brought me safely into this atmospheric restaurant without a stumble.

We were led towards a candle-lit table beside the balcony, and presented with a couple of menus – one of which was the current special entitled Celebrating 30 Years of James Thomson's Collection (30 for three courses), as it's this restaurateur's anniversary of establishing The Witchery, his first business, back in 1979.

This option did look tempting, but Rolf already had his eye on the Arbroath Smokie panacotta with leek veloute (8.95) and I liked the sound of the smoked Loch Etive eel (12.95), both of which were on the other, main menu.

After placing our orders, my other half was getting grouchy about our unfixed tabletop, especially as his glass of Chilean cabernet sauvignon, Antiguas Reservas 2002 (18 a bottle) nearly spilled all over his cummerbund when our entrees eventually arrived.

So, elbows off the table in order not to flip his dish into his lap, his starter had to be picked at gently. Although he enjoyed the main element – a luxuriously creamy panacotta, which was imbued with musky smoked fish – the accompanying potato galette was inedible. This tattie took the form of the eponymous cage from the popular children's boardgame, Mousetrap, and had obviously been fried in bacon fat at least thrice, as it was rock hard.

My starter was also a bit of a heart-breaker. The frugal fillet of fish was delicious, but the accompanying "Argyll heritage potato salad" was bland, featuring, as it did, an earthy "tuber's eye" and a smear of horseradish cream which didn't have any of the expected bite. In fact, it tasted like something that you might be served in an Ikea restaurant – not unpleasant, but certainly not worth thirteen quid, especially as the dish wouldn't have required Chef to do any actual cooking (bar boiling the potatoes).

After that major disappointment, I was greatly relieved to find that my main course was delicious. My portion of saddle and smoked haunch of Speyside venison (26.95) was beautifully tender, with a drizzle of rich chocolate oil adding a complementary measure of dark sweetness. My choice also featured a little square of turnip and potato gratin, which boasted a comfortingly squelchy texture.

Rolf's main wasn't quite as good, owing to a tough sinew running right through the middle of his breast of corn-fed duck (25.95). Once he'd performed a minor operation to remove this, however, he had a rather tasty piece of meat – alongside which was a delicious, if very petite, confit leg (one presumes from a duck that must have been very close to the ground), a smooth little foie gras bonbon, some robust buttered black cabbage and a soupon of quince jelly.

After our mains, I was craving something sugary – although Rolf insisted that I'm sweet enough already (don't retch: it's Valentine's Day). I opted for an iced pistachio parfait (6.95). He wanted to try out their date and banana loaf (6.95) as he's a whizz at making this treat at home, without it going soft in the middle (as happens when I try to bake one). When it arrived, he was very envious of their recipe, as the sticky dates were moreish and a toasted teacake-texture added crunch. However, the caramelised banana on the top tasted like it was on the turn, as it had that odd powdery texture and a definite metallic tinge.

My dessert was also middle-of-the-road. The bright green parfait was pleasantly nutty but it needed something contrastingly acidic alongside it, rather than a samey Victorian-style Chantilly cream sandwiched between the leaves of a virginal-tasting chocolate Madeleine.

So, despite some tasty elements, the meal as a whole wasn't all that seductive. I really hope that this famous restaurant hasn't become a mere tourist attraction, where visitors can expect to pay through the nose to eat in a beautiful, 17th-century building without really fussing about what's on their plates.

Since my experience I've heard diners raving and complaining in equal measure about recent meals at The Witchery, so you might want to pay a visit and try your luck. The female of the species, however, will need to consider whether a hit-or-miss dinner is worth wearing three-and-a-half-inch stilettos for.

The Celebrating 30 Years of James Thomson's Collection menu (30 for three courses) runs until the end of February.