Restaurant review: Leith Lynx, edinburgh

When I spotted the collection of good luck cards that are on display in this eatery, I hoped I wouldn’t be the curdled milk or single magpie.

On my previous visit, back in the summer of 2009, the grub had been disappointing – a lacklustre game pie stuck in my gullet (and my memory). I filed my downbeat review, and haven’t been back.

However, this place has recently been taken over by chef John Winnik and his wife, Kelly, who want to provide “honest fresh food” and a selection of gluten-free offerings. They’ve obviously got loads of wellwishers and, ever wide-eyed, like a kitten happily clambering into a cosy washing machine, I had high hopes for a reinvigorated restaurant.

The new menu looked promising, with a selection of bistro classics and a daily specials board, while the lovely waitress was a ray of sunshine incarnate.

As a Katie Melua track played merrily on the stereo, I ordered a special – the Dalmeny woodpigeon breast (£6.95) – and my dining partner, Rolf, went for the warm salad of squid and chorizo (£5.95) from the à la carte choices.

My option consisted of a large piece of protein which, although pink inside, was charred on the surface. I think they’d forgotten to rest the meat, which made for a texture that was as firm as a tightly clenched fist. This muscular globule was roosting on a mixture of cucumber, tomato, lettuce and strips of beetroot. On the side, was a whorl of a tart apple compote, and segments of good, ashy black pudding. Pleasant enough.

Rolf’s starter was an assemblage of lilac tentacles, plus chorizo nibs, waxy sautéed potatoes and salad leaves. The separate elements were decent, but as a whole it was lacking in flair. The chorizo was of a rather flavourless variety, and the seafood needed a spritz of lemon, or some general seasoning other than pan jus.

Of course, simple is good, but not when it crosses over into Dullsville’s postcode.

Our main courses – my Leith Lynx beef bourguignon and my eating amigo’s pan fried Scrabster cod (both £13.95) – were also a little lacklustre. Mainly because the plates were cold and, thus, we could feel the life force quickly ebbing from our dinner.

Also, I have to take issue with Rolf’s accompanying “tomato and caper salsa”, which turned out to be nothing but chopped tomato and raw white onion. He had an extreme case of halitosis for four days after our meal. Still, at least this offering came with a fillet of downy soft fish, and the mash, which was laced with spring onion, was decent, despite being barely tepid.

My option featured a beautifully slow-cooked hunk of meat, which was dissolvingly fibrous. It was topped with baby spinach leaves and came with some of the essential accoutrements for a bourguignon, such as sliced mushrooms and dinky pearl onions. However, they’d adapted the traditional red wine sauce somewhat, as it had a sweet, almost chipotle flavour, which was cloying after a while. The accompanying brick of dauphinoise potato was fine, if a little too al dente in parts. And it was all a bit chilly, as is their wont.

The pudding selection here consists of crowd-pleasers such as lemon posset and sticky toffee pudding (£4.95). I went for the latter, which was a block of russet-coloured sponge that was burnt on its extremities. It came with a pool of caramel sauce, and some of that canary-yellow “vanilla ice-cream”, which is often found in the freezer compartment of your local pound shop.

The special of tarte tatin (£4.25) was pretty lacklustre too. The thick pastry was almost calcified, with a filling of sliced apple that had a desiccated texture, with barely any sweetness. Rolf snubbed the lot, and concentrated on the surprisingly lovely and gooey chunk of brownie that came with the cup of builder’s tea (£2.10) that he’d ordered.

Oh dear, too little too late. I think the owners have their hearts in the right place, with nods to local produce and a few glimmers of skill. However, more than good luck is required here. They need to refine their offerings – and that includes simple tweaks, like heating up their bloomin’ plates.

I just hope I haven’t been a black cat, sauntering across their path.

Leith Lynx

102 Constitution Street, Edinburgh (0131-554 9996, www.leithlynx.co.uk)

How much?

Dinner for two, without drinks £50