Tasty choice, and change for a round in the pub later

RESTAURANT review

Pink Olive

55-57 West Nicolson Street,

Edinburgh

(0131-662 493)

The Bill

Dinner for two, £37.90, excluding drinks

ALTHOUGH I hadn't been to North African and Mediterranean restaurant Phenecia for more than a decade, I was still sad to see it go. It held memories of friends' birthdays when I was a student. We'd all pile along with our own plonk and make the cheapest thing on the menu (usually the super-garlicky Margarita pizza) last all night. However, after 21 years, it's bowed out and a new eatery, Pink Olive, has moved into that corner slot, opposite The Peartree pub. I'm not going to hold nostalgia against this new restaurant. After all, Phenecia's crowded layout and bright yellow decor was starting to look more than a little jaded.

When my boyfriend Rolf and I visit, we're pleased to see the interior has been blitzed. In its previous incarnation, if you needed the lavatory you had to persuade half of your group to bottom-shuffle out of a booth, just to let you out. Thankfully, that impractical seating has been ripped out, and the walls treated to a lick of white paint, set off by flashes of raspberry on floral lampshades, and bright, striped panelling.

After this makeover, the only two elements which remain studenty are the reasonable prices (we paid £18.95 a head, for three courses) and the soundtrack in the background – which features Oasis, The Cranberries, Blur and other tracks that might be straight off the Student Union jukebox.

From an imaginative menu, including lythe (also known as pollock) and oxtail, I opted for the chargrilled asparagus salad with poached quails' eggs and Rolf went for the tower of haggis ravioli with turnip velouté.

Before these arrived, we were treated to a couple of unexpected amuse bouches – a refreshing snifter of blood-red beetroot and orange soup, and a couple of repulsively named, but nevertheless tasty, haggis bon-bons. We were also presented with a basket of home-baked bread rolls, a bowl of plump kalamata olives (the eponymous pink olives) and olive oil for dipping. To have all these extra morsels was, I thought, really spoiling us, considering the decently priced menu.

However, when my proper starter arrived, I was a touch disappointed. The fresh asparagus had been chargrilled a little too long, which left a vaguely ashy taste on the tongue. Alongside those verdant spears, the four dinky eggs were over-poached by about 15 seconds, leaving their yolks firm. Despite these faults, it was still a decent course for those hankering after something summery, and a good partner to the Domaine de Mont-Auriol Viognier 2005 (£17.95 a bottle).

At the more filling extreme, Rolf's ravioli featured a spicy chunk of haggis in a pasta envelope, perched on top of a slick of turnip velouté.

"It's very tasty, but a little cold," was his defining comment. The service had been a tad slow, unfortunately, and this dish we suspected had been sitting on the counter for rather too long.

For mains, I opted for another light-sounding course – the poached chicken with crispy bacon, and savoy cabbage and mustard sauce, while my other half selected pan-fried sea bass with cauliflower purée, saffron and vanilla sauce.

After a long wait, my main arrived. The plate looked like a Miró painting, with wheels of stuffed chicken, creamed potato and splashes of canary yellow sauce. After chewing on a morsel, my inner art critic decided the chef might have put style above content, and texture. The smooth, baby-food feel of everything was slightly unpleasant, the English mustard flavour overpowering.

"That burns the back of my throat," said Rolf, after pinching a forkful from my plate.

Still, at least he wasn't complaining about his own course. His fillet of fish was beautifully cooked and the vanilla sauce was a subtle foil to the meat, rather than a blanket of sweetness.

As my main had just been pushed around my plate, I'd left plenty of space for pud. The chocolate fondant and white chocolate mousse with mascarpone sorbet was the first thing to catch my eye, and Rolf was seduced by what was billed as a lemon tart with a lime "gratin" – that is, something topped with cheese and breadcrumbs. I think this must have been a mis-labelling of granita, as what arrived was a sparkling, icy sorbet-ish dessert – very nice it was too. The homemade tart was an odd sidekick, but delicious, with lovely shortcrust pastry and a not-too-sweet citrus filling. I could have let jealousy overwhelm me but, instead, I tucked into my soft-centred, mini-chocolate fondant. Its partners of a foamy-textured white mousse and sorbet (which was really more of an ice-cream) made for a satisfying trio of treats.

By this point, despite the slow service, misnamed dishes and hit-or-miss courses, any residual sentimentality for Phenecia was waning. I'm sure Pink Olive will be successful – students have more sophisticated palates now. While ten years ago, we would have been satisfied with a Margarita pizza, I bet all the kids will be queuing up to dine on crispy sea bass here. If prices remain this low (the pre-theatre menu is only £8.50 for two courses), then they might even be able to afford a pint of snakebite at The Peartree afterwards.