I had a hearty lunch at this hidden gem Edinburgh sandwich shop
This is the second branch from this young business
There’s a scene in the classic comedy series 30 Rock, when Tina Fey’s character Liz Lemon makes a plea to unite the human race.
She says that all anyone wants in life is to enjoy a sandwich in peace. Anyway, she goes on to order a carp po’ boy from a dodgy place called Fatty Fat’s Sandwich Ranch, and there are ill effects. Still, I totally agree with the sentiment.
Although it might be hard to find any serenity in the Capital right now, at least we’ve got decent sannies. There are my favourite locations, including Alby’s and Mootz, but also the less hip but just as excellent Toscano.
This sandwich shop, which specialises in Tuscan flat bread called schiacciata, is owned by an inspiringly entrepreneurial teenager, Ilaria Pia, and she’s got ambitious plans. There’s already a branch in Bruntsfield, a new one has opened on Blair Street, there are plans to open at Edinburgh Airport next year, and they’ll soon have a destination on Forrest Road called Toscanino, which is so named as Ilaria's little brother, Valentino, has now got involved in the family business. Also, this location will offer half-sized sandwiches, so you can choose more than one variety, or just tackle a size that’s more manageable.
You should know that their whole sandwiches are practically A4-sized. They’re the same dimenstions as the average handbag.
Have one for lunch, and you probably won’t need dinner.
Thus, I was primed for a hefty hoagie when I visited the new Blair Street branch.
It’s perfectly positioned for the Royal Mile throngs, and has a banner outside, so that they can spot its tucked-away position, just behind the Tron Kirk and up from the City Cafe.
Inside, there are monochrome striped floors, a mural of a winged horse and industrial metal high seating in the window and round the sides of the narrow space. Behind the counter, you’ll find vast thigh-sized salamis and a porchetta, waiting to be sliced on the machine by the young man in a branded green apron.
We choose from the menu of 15 sandwich varieties on the wall. There are delights including the Lucca, with roast turkey, garlic mayo, smoked provola cheese, lettuce and tomato, and the signature Il Toscano with Parma ham, Parmesan spread, rocket, and balsamic glaze. I’m quite tempted by the Vinci, which features truffle cooked ham and mushroom and truffle spread and Asiago cheese, but instead I choose the Massa (£11), which is named after the Tuscan village.
It’s assembled speedily, and contains folded fennel salami - neatly layered, like an envelope stuffed full of cash - a spoonful of salty black olive paste, chunky slices of artichokes for an acidic vegetal tang, and a nutty layer of shaved Asiago cheese. The bread is thin, crispy and golden, and I know this is going to spoil me for all future DIY al-desko lunches.
It’s such a perfect protein and carb hit. I think I’ll only manage half, then ka-boom, the whole thing vanishes into my gaping maw, like a rabbit retreating back into a magician’s top hat. My trousers suddenly feel very snug.
The same goes for my dining partner, who has dispatched the jam-packed Siena (£11). It leaves his fingers and the Toscano branded wrap all sticky with the hot honey ingredient, which had been dribbled all over layers of gently-chilli-spiked soft mortadella and a bouncy duvet of smoked provola cheese.
We were happy to find that there was no vacant space in either sandwich. The fillings weren’t lumped in the middle, for show, but generously spread right to the edges.
It was at this point that I felt myself sleepily sinking into the floor, in the style of a certain Trainspotting scene, because of the carb slump.
Thankfully, there is sugar, to get you going again, courtesy of a soft serve gelato machine.
We ordered two sundae varieties - L’Amarena (£5.50) for me and Pistacchio (£5.50) for him, though we soon realised that each was supposed to serve two people.
The clue was that we now had four spoons, and two vast whorls of dessert.
I focused on the cherry version, with rivulets of red syrup and poppingly juicy fruit folded into layers of ivory gelato, and he guddled about for the pale green pistachio crumbs in the mixture of white chocolate drops and pale green pistachio sauce.
As we exited this establishment, we dropped our empty pots into their bin, along with a million used napkins, then headed back out into the busy tourist hotspot.
We might not be able to get any peace in this hectic city, but the importance of a good sandwich is definitely something that unites us.
Toscano, 15 Blair Street, Edinburgh (0131-605 6719, www.toscanoedinburgh.com)
Comments
Want to join the conversation? Please or to comment on this article.