Dinner in Edinburgh:

Where: Fisher’s
1 The Shore, Leith
Edinburgh
Cost: £50 based on a 2-course meal for 2 with wine.
Why? To feel like you belong. For the best seafood in Edinburgh.

So after battling my way to Scotland we finally arrive. Thank you Easy Jet for your no frills thrills! I took a bus from the airport into town (£5 including free Wifi). I got off just off Princes Street (think Oxford Street but Scottish) hailed down a cab and gave them the hotel address. It was 200 meters away. £6. After a furious googling I found our dinner spot. Fisher’s by the sea.
Now Fisher’s is a fair way from the center of town. Taxi: £15. We arrive; it’s about 8 and the sun is setting. The restaurant is full. I’m asked if I have a reservation. I say no. He says sorry but we’re full. Bank holiday. We plead; we’re from Africa here for one night only. He relents. Go to the pub next door. Wait 30 minutes. I’ll seat you then. I don’t believe him. But he does as promised. Half an hour later he appears.

At fisher’s we find two place settings at the bar. He wasn’t kidding the place is full. It’s a small place, a typical pub with typical pub décor. Wood everywhere and a smattering of maritime kitsch –a mermaid overlooks the bar-. We sit glad to be out of the biting cold and into foodie bliss. We order, fish cakes and fish tempura to start, halibut and scallops for mains. The tempura is light and crisp, the fish white and flaky, a squeeze of lemon and its perfect, a hint of chilli somewhere. The fish cakes are equally good. What fish is in it, I’ll never know. All I remember is a dense mass of seafood heaven. The mains arrive. I’m not a fun of shellfish of any kind. Scallops are the exception. These are obviously fresh, sweet and extremely tender. The chef simply seared them, throw in some roasted pistachios, a garden of cooked spinach and lemon wedges and you have a good plate of food. Portions are generous. I don’t taste my partner’s main. I don’t want to share mine; but I hear it’s also good. Meanwhile we chat with the lovely lady behind the bar, Morena. She swills bottles of wine into glasses all the while seeming genuinely interested in what we have to say. A dessert card appears we decline. More wine, it sweet and red with a gorgeous after burn. I forget its name. It’s time to leave so we pay, a generous tip to the bartender, and to the waiter that got us in (£5 each). We say our goodbye’s, like leaving old friends.

They call us a cab. I leave with a card for a place to lunch the next day.