Restaurant review: Dubh Prais

With a fish soup to die for – and a whole lot more – it's no wonder Raymond Blanc gave Dubh Prais a resounding thumbs-up

I MUST have walked past Dubh Prais hundreds of times. I don't know why, but I just never fancied eating there, and on the only occasion I did try, it was full. Maybe my antipathy stemmed from the combination of its location on the Royal Mile and the kitsch Gaelic name (it's pronounced 'doo prash' and refers to the black cooking pot on the sign outside), which I assumed would mean it was an over-priced tourist trap. Or maybe it was the fact that none of my friends had ever recommended it. More likely, it was just that, having been established in 1988, it has been around so long it had none of the appeal of the new arrival.

Whatever the reason, it was a decision that harmed only one person, and that person was me. This tiny restaurant may not be at the cutting edge of cuisine or challenging for any awards or stars, but it provides superb Scottish food in a convivial environment right in the centre of Edinburgh's Old Town.

I should have given it a try earlier, especially as I've always been aware of chef-proprietor James McWilliams. Starting at the Pompadour in the Caledonian Hotel, he moved on to the Café Royal before running the kitchen at Cosmo for eight years. It's a classy CV, matched by the glowing testimonials he boasts from an eclectic mix of satisfied guests, ranging from Raymond Blanc to those well-known gastronomes Dickie Attenborough and Rafa Benitez.

I've never been completely convinced of the goateed Spaniard's qualities as a football manager, but he clearly knows a good piece of beef when he tastes one. He apparently called his main course of collops in the pan "absolutely magnificent" and, having eaten the same dish, I came to exactly the same conclusion. This is a ridiculously masculine dish: a huge slab of melt-in-the-mouth fillet steak smothered in a gravy made from port, pickled walnuts and thyme, which was the thickest and richest I have ever tasted. Absolutely marvellous.

Vicky was not to be outdone. Her main course of succulent pink medallions of venison with a thyme sauce drew congratulations from no less an authority than Raymond Blanc, who apparently described his venison as "excellent". That just about summed up the experience for Vicky too, although the accompanying vegetables were over-cooked and strangely lacklustre, particularly in two main courses that had grabbed our attention and battered our tastebuds into submission.

Vicky was perhaps the more surprised, since her starter, West Coast broth, had been truly majestic: a gloopy, thick seafood soup stuffed with mussels, squid, salmon and smoked haddock, and spiced with a sprinkling of Tabasco. In fact, she went as far as saying that if she ever finds herself ordering one last supper, this is how it would begin. My fairly run-of-the-mill starter, Inverawe platter of smoked ham, venison and duck, was no match for what she called "the best fish soup I've ever tasted".

We took ten minutes before ordering our puddings and spent the time studying our surroundings in more detail. Shrouded in dark wood and with candles blazing, it's a cosy, subterranean little cellar dining area that seats just 24 people. The service is impeccable, the wine list comfortably above average, there are genuine vegetarian options, the chef insists on using Scottish ingredients wherever possible, and the cost is pretty much in line with nearby competitors such as Wedgwood and Monteiths. With the notable exception of a table of noisy accountants who indulged in some soporific balance-sheet banter at maximum volume, there was, in short, nothing not to like.

We rounded off with two puddings that had a distinctly Caledonian flavour. Both were interesting and enjoyable, even if they never quite scaled the heights of McWilliams' previous offerings. Vicky's Atholl Brose – creamy home-made ice-cream lightly flavoured with Drambuie and oatmeal – was the right choice for someone with a lighter appetite, while my butterscotch terrine with chocolate sauce was perfect for the profoundly greedy, which suited me fine.

With that, suitably chastened for ignoring such excellence for so many years, we tottered off home. Dangerous things, these preconceptions.

VITAL STATISTICS

Dubh Prais 123 High Street, Edinburgh (0131 557 5732, www.dubhpraisrestaurant.com)

Out of pocket

Starters £4.50-£7.75; mains £12.95-£20.50; puddings £4.75 (cheese £6.50)

Rating 8/10