I had dinner at the only Edinburgh fine-dining restaurant where nobody leaves hungry

Take your seats for an incredible seven courses

While I’m at Stockbridge restaurant, Eorna, I observe its owners, chef Brian Grigor and sommelier Greg Montgomery.

They’re such a dream team. Their relationship reminds me of Bez of Nineties band, Happy Mondays, who has often described his bond with singer Shaun Ryder as a sexless marriage.

Indeed, the Eorna twosome are just pals, but they’re the perfect yin and yang. Brian beavers around quietly and methodically in the open kitchen, cooking for the dozen guests who are seated around their marble chef’s table. Greg is the raconteur, who warmly entertains, conjures a relaxed atmosphere, pours the wine, and commands the playlist of tunes, which might include a bit of Appalachian folk, as well as The Buggles and a spot of Primal Scream.

The diners buckle in for seven courses, served from 7pm, for £105pp, with matched wines from £80.

This experience begins with three canapes, served consecutively until about 7.45pm.

The first is a bite-sized biscuity fan that contains Isle of Mull cheddar and onion and a dot of black garlic puree. Number two is a savoury ice-cream, in the form of a cone that contains a caper and raisin puree and a Mr Whippy flourish of bone marrow mousse. They really get our engines revving, for the bigger dish three, which is a clever and worldly comforting twist on Cullen skink, with a Japanese chawanmushi base, a seaweedy oil, cooked leeks, haddock and potato puffs. Genius.

Although we’re on the same table, there’s plenty of space between the five couples that are here tonight, but I can still hear a few positive mumbles coming from nearby.

Now we move onto the lobster - which Brian tells us was fished by Ross in the East Neuk, in his small boat, the Tina Louise. There are milk-tooth-sized cubes of this meat and Pink Lady apple, burnt apple puree, fennel, caviar, and pickled kohlrabi draped over the top like a gossamer-fine wimple. I think this fresh and acidic delight could be my dish of the night.

There’s a pause before the next course. Just as well, as this is a whopper. The tiny three-bite-portion thing has been yeeted out of the window.

We each have a huge quarter of a football-sized copper-coloured pithivier.

The contents remind me of that famous 19th-century L’Almanach des Gourmands roti san pareil dish, which features 17 birds. Well, they haven’t gone that far here, but it did contain smoked chicken and chicken mousse, partridge breast, smoked bacon, duck liver parfait, and Armagnac prunes, with a blob of parsnip puree on the side. Richer than Elon Musk.

Those people who always complain about having to get a chippy after eating at a fine-dining restaurant should come here. “Brian IS a feeder,” said Greg.

I paced myself by not eating too much of the glorious Company Bakery sourdough, which was served with Brian’s own homemade butter, topped with Scotland’s first camelina oil, sourced from a farm in East Lothian. They are generous with this carb, too. You’ll get more than two slices if you flutter your eyelashes.

Savoury dish three is dreamy and lighter than the pithivier.

There’s a lightly roasted plank of halibut, served with a frothy mushroom puree, with a bit of raw mushroom, samphire and finger-print-sized shavings of black truffle.

This is followed by the grand finale of savoury courses - a pink slice of wild venison, with a very US-influenced triangle of roasted and pureed squash that’s anointed with a cashew cream, cavolo nero, plus some type-O-coloured bramble jus, topped with the henchest bramble I’ve ever seen.

There are two puds - a comforting and not-too-sweet buttermilk panna cotta with shortbread crumbs and poached pear, as well as a juicy nectar of a pear sorbet. This is followed by the chocolatey finisher, with a hazelnut-chocolate-coated cherry mousse on a sponge plinth, a tuile tube that’s filled with marcona almond ice-cream, and a cherry topped dollop of ganache. Me oh my.

Just as we’re thinking about asking Greg for our coats, we see something else going in the oven. Madeleines! These perfect spongey soft cat’s paws are lemon, honey and tonka versions.

We’re so completely spoiled. And I didn’t even have room to tell you about the drinks. These are Greg’s domain, and he’ll talk you through some perfect pairings.

Among others, we tried an outstanding 10-year-old Justino’s Madeira nd a Giovanni Allegrini Recioto Della Valpolicella Classico dessert wine that tasted like blackcurrant.

And we had a perfect aniseedy corpse reviver (£12) and a dirty Martini (£13).

Without any pressure for them to get their table back, the evening drew to a close at 11pm, and it wasn’t a night that I’ll ever forget.

No chippy required, all thanks to the dream team who’ve twisted my melon, man.

68 Hamilton Place, Edinburgh, eornarestaurant.com