Finding the new Olive Branch Bistro on George IV Bridge in Edinburgh is a bit like discovering Narnia. The deli that acts as its public face is not much bigger than a wardrobe, and almost as dark. You'd never suspect another world lay awaiting discov
ery if it weren't for the notice in the window inviting you to check out the basement, with the assurance: "We won't bite!"
At the foot of the stairs my companions gasped: this split-level eatery in what was once a vaulted cellar is as stylish as the deli upstairs is drab. The sales pitch is "relaxed, informal dining in your neighbourhood", an approach that has gone down well at this small chain's Broughton Street and Bruntsfield bistros. Exposed girders, gilt paint, a dark recessed bar and a flourish of chrome railings gives the GIVB version a sleek, contemporary feel that clearly appealed to a party of lawyers at the next table. A family group had apparently hot-footed it to the mezzanine from a graduation ceremony. At several smaller tables business types sipped complimentary glasses of fizz.
The bubbly – a glass of Perrier Jouet champagne NV – is available until the end of next week, as part of a "summer sale" set meal. Our glasses duly delivered, we sipped as we considered our choices of starter, main and pudding (three courses for £14.95; two for £11.95). There being three of us, and three choices at each stage, we ordered one of everything, an approach our friendly waitress considered novel.
We had to wait a little to get going, but between checking our reflections in the mirror wall and investigating the fire stairs outside (plans are afoot, it seems, to make these the main entrance) we weren't complaining.
When our starters arrived, our Yorkshire taster plumped for the black pudding and bacon salad with garlic croutons and mustard dressing, on the grounds that he had never knowingly had black pudding in a salad before. He raved about the crispy, pungent little deep-fried nuggets that had worked their way right through the greenery, giving something of interest in each mouthful. The garlic croutons were lightly crunchy, and there was just enough dressing to add contrast without swamping either flavours or leaves.
The librarian in our party went for the grilled sea bass with red pepper and coriander couscous, and salsa verde. He gave the sea bass the thumbs-up for "tasting of fish without being fishy". A great fan of mint, I was delighted with my little taste of the sea bass with salsa verde; a welcome burst of freshness – although it pushed the coriander in the couscous rather into the shade.
My own roast aubergine and grilled asparagus salad with sundried tomato dressing was a perfectly constructed mound of complementary textures and flavours. The aubergine melted in the mouth, while the asparagus was just firm enough not to disintegrate. There was a decadent butteriness about both, nicely undercut by the intensity of the dressing and crispness of the leaves.
When our mains followed, after a short pause, the black pudding fan went vegetarian, picking the butternut squash and blue cheese risotto. Turns out he's been hooked on risotto since 1997. The modest portion worried him at first, but he was soon recalling how risotto is always more filling than you think – and insisting we sample the full-on punch of the blue cheese, which had won him over completely. A whole portion would have been too much for me – this was seriously rich – but the texture was just right, and you certainly couldn't accuse it of being coy.
The librarian, meanwhile, was taken with his pork cutlet, served with new potatoes, French beans and garlic butter. "This is exactly how I'd have requested it, if I'd been asked," he said. Discussion ensued about whether you ever get to say how you want a pork cutlet cooked. "I don't think it's like a steak," said the risotto convert. "Whatever. It's tender, it's moist, and it has just the faintest hint of pinkness, which is a difficult thing to do." The beans were almost as much of a hit – crisp and green. "What a bean!" exclaimed the librarian, holding one aloft. "This is just my idea of what a bean should be."
It fell to me to sample the seared salmon with roast vegetables and sage dressing. Salmon isn't a fish I usually pick when out for a meal (you can have too much of a good thing). But this was the best I've had in a long while – light, moist, and only just holding itself together. There's something thrilling about teasing such a fish apart.
The undisputed pudding winner was the OB cheesecake, served with berry compote. This was indescribably beautiful – lemony with a touch of vanilla, creamy but light, and with a biscuit base that was buttery and not too brittle. After that, my lemon pannacotta with cherry compote seemed almost bland and cloying (although the cherries were lovely); and the summer pudding, while seriously fruity, could have done with a fat blob of whipped cream on top rather than a goodie-goodie peach sorbet. Well, we had to find fault with something.
Sale menu aside, they do everything here from upmarket burgers to à la carte dishes in the £15 to £20 range – and you can pay £150 for a bottle of Belle Epoque Brut rosé. It came as no surprise to learn that the chef is Eden Sinclair, late of the very fine Glasshouse in Eskmills. If he carries on in this vein, they won't be needing that little notice in the window for long.
The full article contains 966 words and appears in The Scotsman newspaper.
