The Brandon at Canonmills – yum yum yum.


In the place where Cross and Corner used to live there’s now a wee bar/restaurant on that corner of Broughton Street and Eyre Place called Brandon’s of Canonmills.  A refreshing groovsters hangout with food that frankly my lips haven’t stopped smacking themselves about since we tried it.
When I say groovsters hang out clearly not just groovsters as we are about as far from the category as you can get and still be labelled human.

We are 3 middle aged woman and a sausage dog. Sounds like a film but no it’s just my life.

So just to clarify….dogs are very welcome indeed as is everyone it seems.

When you have hit the dizzy heights of 50 odd (with the emphasis on odd in this case) it’s disheartening and annoying the number of people who ignore you, don’t do eye contact or assume you are in for a cup of tea or a slash. Well our shower arounder was a charmer make no mistake and we loved him. So we booked a booth for supper  later in the day thinking it was just a formality –  after all a Tuesday night surely wouldn’t be busy. We were right, it wasn’t busy. It was packed.

2 main courses and a bottle of wine £30 – a good deal and too good to pass up.

Photo of Interior courtesy of
Photo of Interior courtesy of
Japes aplenty
Japes aplenty

One Sausage & 3 women ensconced. Happy days. As we arrived a very tired beach exhausted Charlie Chorizo was offered water which he slurped before falling asleep on my foot.

The sausage looking forward to his visit.
The sausage working up an appetite at the beach.

We  had a couple of margaritas to start – blood orange margaritas – hello! A great kick start to any evening. there was no pressure of time so we set the pace giving more than ample time for our well over due gossiping.
Well the food was great. Delicious. Fresh. Imaginative. Slurp. Beetroot and goats cheese salad. A burger – just plain but perfect and panko rolled smoked jackfruit – wtf? I have no idea so I asked. It is an Indonesian fruit apparently which was a revelation.

Resist making that revolting joker please. Thank you.
Resist making that revolting joke please. Thank you.

Our smiley server described Jackfruit as having the same consistency as pulled pork – I was sceptical but he was bang on. The flavoursome pork impersonator oozed smoky paprika and the presentation was like 2 great big meaty delicious Scotch eggs (without the egg!)
Puds were great too. We had Mellis Cheese and oatcakes and – drum roll – adffogato – not with ice cream and espresso but with rhubarb ice cream and a shot of gin. Be still my beating heart.

Dear Santa I will be a good good girl if you promise to take me back here. Soon.

Its warm, welcoming, groovy, dog friendly, cocktail delightful, foodie hangout for all.

Its so good this lazy blogger has broken the habit of being a sloth and got back on the blogging horse. Woah.

The Brandon at Canonmills: Mmmmmnnnnnnn


If you fancy going down the Jackfruit route heres an article from The Guardian all about it.

Dine in Edinburgh’s newest restaurant. DINE.

Dine with Stuart Muir.

The new kid on the block in place of Blue the much loved and missed groovacious bar restaurant of the early 90’s has been refurbed and reborn as
Dine with Stuart Muir.

The high heid yin comes from down south and had the sense to poach Stuart who was the head chef at Harvey Nichols Fourth Floor restaurant in Edinburgh to head up the team in the kitchen. Yum.

Muted lighting, warm, caramel, colours, high backed leather banquettes and delightfully sociable round tables create a warm inviting atmosphere and seats up to 80. The cocktail/champagne bar which seats up to 30 has slouchy low down comfortable leather chairs facing a bar glistening with a fine array of bottles, liqueurs well kent and eclectic.

We started with a cocktail. The list is extensive and the Santana ”
100% agave Casa noble crystal Tequila – cointreau – blue curacao – lime juice – cinnamon.” I can recommend highly. Pal Dynamite had a winter warmer which happily was not a big slipper but a chi-chi wee tea cup offering a warm concoction that made her cheeky chops smile. Lick your lips and have a gander at their creative list of cocktails here.

And so to dinner.

The a la carte menu read very well. Not too big, not too fancy and not too expensive. We were out for an impromptu girls meal on a Monday evening so requested the market menu which at £14.50 for 2 courses or £17.50 for 3 including coffee is a billy bargain.

Some went a la carte. Some market menu. And regardless of what we chose – there was nothing but praise, smiles and compliments to the chef all round.

Starters included pork rillete; two generous quenelles of rillete served with chargrilled toast – yum yum yum – toast has never toasted or tasted so good. Homemade Humus (yes you can spell it like that) and a pickled thing too set the rillete off to perfection.
Friend Janes a la carte wild mushroom risotto disappeared like snow off a dyke with oohin and aahing noises so – “excellent” was the verdict from her.

Main course I went for the veggie option – a bean casserole – don’t be so beanist – this was a belter. I am not a veggie but just fancied something warming and this hit the spot. Rich, delicious, warming and a mighty portion too for the Aberdonian tum.
Salmon was chosen by two and the presentation was impeccable as was the taste. Cod enjoyed by our a la carte girl also got top marks.

Sadly my phone had spent a few seconds face down on Princes Street earlier in the day so my camera was not up to the mark. I took a few but they would in no way do the food justice. So you will have to take my word for it.


So get thee to Saltire Court, Cambridge Street upstairs from the foyer of the Traverse. Go on up you go.

It was first of many a Christmas night out and this one will be hard to beat.

Tonight I am off to meet the Tesla – the amazing electric car which is taking the car world by storm. I will report back.

Sex In The City 2 ? Nope. Wrecks In the City too.

Like to see this lot after a few pints in Glasgow

Never mind Sarah Jessica Parker et al. The girls and I hit Glasgow yesterday for lunch at  Blythswood Square. Departing Edinburgh it was about 25 degrees, blasting sunshine and we were in high spirits. 3 on at Waverley, 2 Haymarket, 1 Linlithgow all present and correct off we sped  west for a carry on.

Toasty hot we decided stootering about in hee hiles would end in an early injury so we leapt into a cab. As we got out the poor taxi driver was grabbed and asked to take a photo of us – we thought it would be good to get one before the inevitable collapse of style, grace and mascara. Perched on the steps half of us with our chins up, the other  half with chins down he clicked the camera.  Thanks! I shouted ‘miss your column in The Sunday Mail ‘ he shouted. Och thanks I said waving and following the rest of them  heading  gaggingly fast towards the bar.

High stools, round tables and a fabulous cocktail list. Happy Harriets. French Martini – had two. Had too! Lunch 3 courses for £20 – wine, prosecco, coffee and a lot of high jinx. The place was jumping. Afterwards Jane Thomson showed us round including the private viewing room. You can see it here complete with it’s Harris Tweed seats.
 It’s  WOW from top to toe. The whole place, in the old RAC building has scrubbed up beautifully,  with interior by  Graven Images it looks and feels opulent, modern and special. Unlike us who by this point were feeling full,  half cut and fat.  When the spa opens we’ll be back for an overnight sensation we shouted at the rather alarmed looking staff.

By the time we’d finished our tour one of our number was asleep in the gardens across the road as the rest of us stumbled out into the sun and flagged down another taxi, back to the station.

‘There’s a train in 5 minutes shouted Dynamite ‘ as head down we ran for the ticket barrier. After we got thrown off the train to Dunblane we leapt off and found the right one with seconds to spare. The guard ushered us on. We did a head count. One of us was missing. ‘We have to get off!’ You can’t said the guard we’re leaving NOW.

Standing, sweaty and confused we phoned our lost member Kim. Where are you?
I bought a Big Issue it took me 10 seconds and when I looked up you had all gone.

Sorry we cried in unison. It’s Ok I was fed up of the lot of you anyway.

That’s why we love her.

Like looking in a mirror

Home to bucketing rain. No jackets, high heels and linen ensured I arrived home looking like Alice Cooper in a dress.
Look at the state of you said the long suffering husband.

I’m sober! I objected.

Yeh right he said eyeing up the sodden streaky slapper that stood before him.

If I was a black belt Ninja he’d have been in big trouble. But I’m not so I just squelched past in high dudgeon enroute to a hot shower, fresh clothes and a large gin. Might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb.