I found Edinburgh's best sandwich at a Stockbridge general store

My life can be measured in sandwiches.

The squashed peanut butter ones of childhood, the tuna mayo version in student years. Now, the middle-aged working-from-home, can’t-wait-a-minute-past-noon numbers.

Those are usually filled with whatever we bought at the start of the week and are trying to string out until Friday.

Their ubiquity means I’m not really gagging for a sannie, come the weekend. I find them a bit depressing.

Unless, that is, we’re talking about Mootz, which recently opened in Stockbridge.There’s a buzz about their lavish creations.

These are served at the front of their general store, which will eventually have a proper shopping space at the back, but currently offers fridges full of juices, and shelves full of cultish comestibles including olives, Caputo flour, mustard and Blackthorn Salt.

On the walls, there’s a huge picture of Popeye with a can of spinach, and another of Elvis, eating a bap (presumably full of deep-fried squirrel, peanut butter and jelly).

Customers can wait in line for iPad-sized filled slabs of their homemade schiacciata - a Tuscan bread that’s a sister to focaccia, except it’s flatter and crispier on the outside. This carb is robust enough that the fillings can be heaped and flattened, like pansies in a flower press. That’s a pretty good USP. Yes, you’re paying upwards of a tenner for a bap, but that’s okay when each contains the entire stock of a deli.

When we visited, there was a queue at the till, and another bunch of moochers, who were restlessly waiting for their orders to be completed.

Thankfully, the staff move efficiently. They’ve got quite the production line, with four industrious youths in white tees and navy aprons.

It looks as if there’s someone to heap on the sliced meats, then another human on condiment duty, working with lashings of thousand island, mustard mayo or Milanese sauce. Another adding pickles. Then a lid person. A wrapper-upper. Boom!

Choose from the special of the day, or one of the eight numbers on the board.

These include a Cubano (porchetta, prosciutto, provolone, pickles and mustard), or Tomato (tomato carpaccio, pistachio, pesto, rocket, vegan nduja and balsamic).

They’re available in the full-sized, or smaller (and a few quid cheaper) versions.

I went for their signature Mootz (£12) in the standard size, and the Huckleberry (£13), along with pop from their chiller cabinet - a zingy pineapple Jarritos (£3) and a Dotdot virgin lime mojito bubble tea (£3.90).

Inside, there is a narrow counter for sitter-inners, and some tables outside, but those spots were already taken on our Sunday visit.

Thus, once we had our wares, we hot-footed it along to Inverleith Park’s rose garden, where, strangely, every other bench-goer also had a Mootz sandwich, in its red and white branded bag.

A single seagull perched on the Victorian sundial, and eyed us all up lasciviously. I’m not sure they even have tongues, but I’m sure I saw it licking its beak.

My sannie contained a protein contingent of mortadella and milky white clods of stracciatella, along with a nutty slick of mossy green pistachio pesto and a dab of chilli honey. The saltiness of the bread’s surface, and the sweetness of the stickier condiment, made for a satisfyingly balanced combo.

Our other sannie was heaped high with wafer thin slices of meat - mortadella, prosciutto and porchetta, all squashed together like the pages of a damp dictionary. It also featured a juicy tomato carpaccio, mozzarella and chilli oil. This was the antithesis of our stingily-filled weekday sandwiches.

Afterwards, we were stuffed, though happy, with hands covered in olive oil and salt. The seagull flew off, gutted.

Though full, we marched back to Mootz for round two, because I had my eye on one of their sfogliatelle pastries (£3.50) and we needed coffee in the form of a cortado (£3) and a bicerin (£3.50), which is a mixture of espresso, chocolate and whipped cream.

The pastry was glorious, with fanned crispy layers, and a filling of orange and cinnamon creme patisserie. We shared it, and had to fish the golden crumbs out of our decolettes.

Sadly, the coffee is not so good. Bitter. Still, you can’t have everything AND a cherry on top.

On Monday, I went back to my standard al-desko sandwich and it tasted duller than usual, in comparison to Mootz. Their beauties are strictly reserved for weekends only.

The Verdict:

How much? Lunch for two, excluding drinks, £28.50

Food 8/10

Ambience 8/10

16/20

Mootz

62 Raeburn Place

Edinburgh

Instagram @mootzgeneralstore

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