The Lookout, Calton Hill, Edinburgh. EH7 5AA (0131 322 1246). Lunchtime à la carte: starters £8-£14; mains £16-£25; desserts £5; wines from £29. Set lunch £25. Evening tasting menus £50 and £70
The Lookout is a brave restaurant. It hasn’t so much decided that passing trade is not a priority, as laughed in its face, then handed it a scribbled note saying, “Go away.” It occupies a new build right at the top of Calton Hill within the Observatory buildings, looking out over Edinburgh to the Firth of Forth, hence the name.
Inside, it is drop-dead, look-at-me-I’m-Instagram-ready gorgeous, with floor-to-ceiling glass walls, polished concrete floors, a light well through a geometric funnel of a ceiling and an open kitchen with a fire grill, guaranteed to give any diners sitting within 10ft a nice cure. Outside it is toilet-block chic. It’s apparently been designed by an architect who, when asked for a contemporary design that might have something to say to the neoclassicism of the faux Athenian Acropolis that dominates up here, decided on the words, “Yeah, whatever.”
Taxis can drop off, though it’s still a walk from the road. Otherwise, it’s a major yomp uphill because there’s no parking. No one would describe it as a model of accessibility. On a beautiful Edinburgh summer’s day when the sun barely bothers to set, this could be joyous. I go on a late November day, when half the North Sea is being deposited on the hilltop. I feel intrepid simply for getting to the door.
There is one other challenge. In the evenings, like its sister restaurant, the Gardener’s Cottage at the bottom of the hill, it only serves a tasting menu. It’s £50 for five courses and £70 for seven. There’s quite a lot of this in Edinburgh right now. They do something similar at Timberyard and Six by Nico, the Table and Aizle and a few others beside. If they’re finding enough custom happy to have what they’re given, then good for them. But too often a tasting menu feels to me like double maths, only with fancy glasses and better-dressed teachers. It’s to be endured. And then paid for.
That is the case for the prosecution. Here then is the defence: at lunchtime, when it’s a short à la carte, the Lookout is worth busting your lungs for. The view is spectacular, even when the cloud-base is descending on the city like a duvet being chucked over a bed, but you won’t look up much because the food is so diverting. It is simple ideas, well executed, using great ingredients in the service of big flavours. Across our lunch everything feels thoughtful and thought out.
Three fat rock oysters arrive. One is in a crisp, lacy tempura overcoat. The other two are unadorned, but come with a shell generously filled with their own XO sauce. It’s a deep rust colour, and rich with the profound savouriness of dried seafood and sugar and oils. I know I’m meant to put it on the oysters, and I do, but I also end up spooning it away neat, until I’m scraping at the mother-of-pearl. They come with a well-made sourdough and lick-the-plate-clean butter.
There are just four choices for the first two courses. The star of our starters is a cuttlefish risotto made night-black from the ink. On top are the very freshest of cockles still in the shell, which are salty and sweet and bright. Cockles are the equal of any poulard clam, but most of them get ripped from their shells, pickled and sent away to people with more taste. We suck at the meat then use the shells to scoop away. There are a few bitter leaves on top wilting gently in the heat. By comparison a frothy bowl of pumpkin soup, the surface sprinkled with pumpkin seeds, seems almost demure. But glancing up at the rain slapping the glass like a cat demanding to be let in, this soup suddenly makes it feel as if the food and weather have been matched. Bouncing around in the bottom of the bowl are squeaky, fresh beechnuts. Both of these dishes are £8. It’s a lot for the soup, and very good value for the risotto.
A chunk of pearly hake, the flakes sliding away from each other, sits atop an unmanicured mess of gently sautéed leeks, nutty new potatoes and melon-bellied mussels, which are a warming shade of tangerine. It is described as coming with “curry”, which in this case means the puddle of buttery broth bringing it all together has been spiced lightly with a garam masala.
The darkness to this lightness is a perfectly grilled and glazed beef fillet, with roasted and charcoal-grilled pieces of Jerusalem artichoke. There’s also a jug of a luscious onion broth to pour over it all. We have been sniffing all this on the air for so long now it’s almost a relief to be eating it – for, while major extraction has been fitted, it really isn’t up to the job. Occasionally, they try opening the front door to let a little of the smoke out, but the weather is determined and angry. Get a table as near to a window as possible.
Alongside, we have grilled and blackened hispi cabbage – I love acrylamide, me; no really, I do – with dollops of Berkswell cheese, and more cheese grated over the top, plus pink fir potatoes still in their skins, first fried then roasted. Remember, this is Edinburgh on a dreich day. You will need something to sustain you on the trip down the hill. We finish with a slab of apple tart, made with chunks of fruit roasted to golden, and a whipped chocolate mousse, with booze-soaked prunes and a chocolate tuile. It’s not uncommon for strangers to tell me how jealous they are of what I do for a living. I tell them it’s a writing job not an eating job, and so on. But reading this back, even I’m jealous of me.
Of course, there is a price, which is not helped by a short wine list that opens at £29 for a bottle of Moscatel and doesn’t loiter for long in the £30s. Two glasses of admittedly terrific Albariño come in at £27. With mains around the £20 mark the bill will build up quickly, though there is a no-choice three-course set lunch from Monday to Friday for £25. Think of it as high-altitude dining, with prices to match. And be prepared to put all your clothes in the wash the moment you get home. Taken in the round, however, I’d put it all in the column headed “Absolutely worth it.”
News bites
It also takes effort to get to the Moorcock Inn, high on the moor at Sowerby Bridge, but it will be rewarded. Chef Alisdair Brooke-Taylor and his partner Aimee Turford, who runs front of house, walk the line between generous boozer and cutting-edge restaurant. The pub menu might include baked sea bass or a game terrine with pickles; the restaurant tasting menu, a snip at £39 for nine dishes each, heads off towards crab with creamed corn and fermented mushrooms and celeriac with goat ricotta (themoorcock.co.uk).
The top 100 UK restaurant list, compiled by the crowd-sourced guide Harden’s from their contributor’s reports, makes interesting reading. 10% of them are Indian, Kent is the strongest county in the UK, and the North West makes the strongest showing after the South East (hardens.com).
While some high street chains are finding the going tough, others are prospering. Pizza chain Franco Manca, which started as a single outlet in South London, has reported half year revenues up 9% to £36 million. David Page, chairman of parent company Fulham Shore, says they have identified 40 UK towns and cities for openings over the next five years, which would bring the total to 90 sites.
Email Jay at jay.rayner@observer.co.uk or follow him on Twitter @jayrayner1
