We donโt do date nights in my house.
However, if we did, Patron Saint would be the ideal destination. Thatโs because it was the location of our first romantic rendezvous, way back in 2002.
The same auspicious year that I started work at The Scotsman.
Back in the Noughties, this place was The Belfry. We sat on a couch. He had a bottled beer and I had a gin and tonic. It was awks.
Over two decades later, weโre as wrinkled as balloons in a hot room, but weโre still together, so our patron saint must be Valentine. There. Thatโs all the cheesy patter youโre getting from me.
This Bruntsfield property still exists as a pub, but theyโve had a major makeover.
Itโs now owned by Lucky Number Seven Holdings - the people behind west-end bar, The Cocktail Mafia, and The Raging Bull on Lothian Road. The new placeโs decor is maximalist, with walls that are Vermeer-ish shades, stools that look like daisies and a ceiling thatโs decorated by bright watercolour splotches.
Unlike the other venues, thereโs more of a focus on food.
In fact, thereโs an awful lot of grub, from cheese and charcuterie sharing platters, to pinsa, small plates and large ones, which include burgers and risotto. There are 25 savoury offerings in total.
Feeling overwhelmed, we went for the deal of five small plates for ยฃ48 (or four for ยฃ35, three for ยฃ28).
These are presented on a long wooden sharing board, so you can nibble from either end, like Lady and the Tramp on a piece of spaghetti.
At my Tramp side, there was the stuffed rolled lamb, with a large wedge of lemon on top. Heโs not a fan of sheepy meats, so this protein spiral was all mine, though that wasnโt much of a coup. It came with soft yellow peppers and capers, but there wasnโt much evidence of the apricot and mint that were billed on the list. It was definitely lacking in something.
Up at Ladyโs end of the plank was a slice of their raised game pie. I took a huge Desperate Dan mouthful of the mauve meaty filling, then wished that I could rewind. It was so desiccated that this felt like chomping into a piece of Victorian taxidermy.
I regurgitated it into a napkin and was very grateful that this wasnโt our first date.
Its accompanying โmustard and dill potato saladโ was a mixture of uniform tattie cubes in a glutinous mayo, and we also had a small triangle of cheddar and a large pot of chutney.
The best thing on the board was our palm-sized salmon, cod and coconut fishcake, with a hit of chilli and lemongrass. It had a thick crumb and came with a large dollop of caper mayo. Still, ยฃ48 divided by five is ยฃ9.60. Thatโs way too much for a dinky fishcake.
Their pair of tobiko-topped trout rillette-ish crostini, though not served on the promised rye bread, werenโt bad, though I donโt know what the listed โmustard frillsโ were supposed to be. Maybe theyโre like cheap thrills, but hotter and yellower.
The final member of our quintet, who were shaping up to be less of a supergroup and more like the Backstreet Boys, were beef shin croquettes. These were reasonably tasty, though you wouldnโt know that they had beef inside. They came with a smudge of squash puree and another of date and tamarind chutney. The gremolata was AWOL.
We also had one side - the fries with a twist (ยฃ6.50), aka three HB length halloumi sticks and two claggy battered courgette flowers.
At least the pudding of grandmaโs cake (ยฃ6.50) wasnโt bad. It was a squishy slice, with โlemon scented custardโ, pine nuts, honey and a thick talcum powdering of icing sugar. Maybe granny should take over all the cooking.
Throughout the meal, we had a couple of excellent cocktails.
There was a Mango Firecracker (ยฃ11), with Mezcal Union, Aperol, jalapeno, mango, lime and grapefruit bitters, and a Chocolate Treat (ยฃ10), in lieu of a second dessert. It contained 42 Below Vodka, Mozart Dark Chocolate, Creme de Menthe, espresso, gomme and dark chocolate, with three coffee beans suspended on its fluffy topping.
That was consolation, since this isnโt going to be an anniversary destination.
Even if we go back, itโll be for drinks only.
