Restaurant review: L'Artichaut, Edinburgh

Published on Monday 5 October 2009 16:46

FAMOUS veggie, Paul McCartney, recently launched his Meat Free Mondays campaign, which aims to encourage us to curb our carnivorous cravings once a week. He hopes that, if we take part, we'll help to reduce climate change (as, apparently, meat manufacture produces 18 per cent of carbon dioxide emissions), improve animal welfare and, along the way (I'd imagine), ensure that Linda's country pies do a roaring trade.

Anyway, if this could help me get a few more portions of fruit and veg into my vitamin C starved husk, then I could be very tempted to jump on the bandwagon.

Holding that thought, while attempting not to reach for the pork scratchings, Rolf, and I, tripped along to Edinburgh's new vegetarian restaurant, L'Artichaut, in the former premises of Duck's at Le Marche Noir.

This new place is owned by Jean-Michel Gauffre, the proprietor of French restaurant, La Garrigue, and the interior is welcoming, albeit verging on hippy-ish. There's a plush, lawn-coloured carpet, oak furniture by Tim Stead and each table is resplendent with ceramic goblets and jugs. The menu made us feel a bit like Alice in Wonderland (plus her Cheshire cat), as we stumbled upon a new world, where the usual beef, chicken and fish had been replaced by magical-sounding chanterelles, samphire grass and kohlrabi, plus plenty of organic wine to wash the vegetation down.

The dishes that looked as if they had EAT ME written all over them (for us, anyway) were the sweetcorn and chive blinis (5.50) and pear rmoulade (4.50), the latter of which I chose from their "market menu" of lighter dishes.

Before these arrived, we were both presented with amuse-bouche – a zingy artichoke guacamole, served on green saucers made from the inedible petals of this plant. These were almost as beautifully presented as our starters.

My square ceramic plate, for example, was laden with a fan of sliced avocado and triangles of socca (a French, pancake-like bread), plus caper-spiked rmoulade and a herby radish and tomato salsa.

Rolf's entree, meanwhile, was the heavier option. It consisted of a pile of yeasty blinis, alongside three earthy-tasting beetroot beignets, which looked cosy in the crisp bonnets that were allowing the remainder of their trimmed magenta stems to poke through the batter. Alongside this was a blob of garlic-spiked avocado crme frache, which gave a nice textural contrast to the crunchy root veg.

On to the mains, and I'd chosen something else from the market menu – a mille-feuilles of leek (8). Despite the fact that this was a dinky portion, the handful of fleshy chanterelles, which were sandwiched between crisp rectangles of pastry, made it enough to fill my cavernous tum. I especially liked this course's accompanying helping of smooth garlic pure, which was slicked along the side of the dish.

Meanwhile, my dining partner's portion (chosen from the main food list), was about double the size of my choice. He still, however, managed to finish the huge tile of chargrilled celeriac pav (9.50), which was surrounded by a pistachio-studded creamed polenta and a moat of salty, coal-black olive jus. This was such an appealing blend of textures and flavours, that it could almost give one amnesia, when it comes to bloody steak.

Although there are only three sugary options, the puds here are just as imaginative as the savoury options. We snubbed the baked cheesecake (4) in favour of lemon and pink pepper meringue (4) and slow-roasted plums (4.50).

I chose the former option and was a little disappointed to find it consisted of five, button-sized meringues, rather than one biggie (they were either tiny, or I'd grown, like Alice). Still, these were nicely chewy and their accompaniments of sharp lemon curd and warm chocolate sauce were enough to zip my insulin levels through the roof.

My other half's choice seemed a bit more worthy. "This tastes too healthy to be a real pud," was his comment. Although, he wasn't really complaining, as the combo of fruit, a glorious saffron sorbet that tasted like sparkling ginger ale, plus tiny rose-dusted shortbreads, was yummy – just not as sweet as you might expect.

What a great meal. Mind you, even after a feast like that, my grinning Cheshire cat and I aren't quite convinced about a permanent bunny-food diet. We would, however, be more than happy to schedule a weekly visit down the L'Artichaut rabbit hole for some of their other-worldy vegetarian grub.

14 Eyre Place, Edinburgh

(0131-558 1608, www.lartichaut.co.uk)

THE BILL: Dinner for two, 36, excluding drinks

• www.meatfreemondays.co.uk