The lively new Edinburgh restaurant that served my best lunch of 2025
It took me a while to get here, but I’m glad I did
Barry Bryson is the capital’s Jack-in-the-box chef.
Over the years, he’s done restaurant pop-ups everywhere, from the Fruitmarket Gallery to Jupiter Artland.
I don’t think I’ve ever reviewed any of his events before, because they’re here, then they’re gone, like a shubunkin’s memory.
Now, he’s taken the big step to commit to a forever home, with Barry Fish, down at The Shore. It’s occupied half of cafe Mimi’s Bakehouse’s downsized premises, which is still there, if you want a slice of lamington cake afterwards.
Anyway, four months since the opening, and I don’t know why it took me so long to visit.
To be honest, I was getting quite bored of people telling me about how good it is, from fellow foodies to a guy in my fitness class. Everyone made me feel left out.
But here I am, in a gorgeous room - designed by Barry’s clever partner, Robin - that’s painted buttery yellow and sage green, with a bar surrounded by sciatica-friendly padded seats.
There are also piscine wire sculptures on the wall, by local artist Sheila Jardine, with one above my head, looking down on me with a beady two-pound-coin-sized golden eye as I scope out the menu.
The Sunday lunch offering features a selection of Bryson’s greatest hits, which have been well refined over the years. You don’t have to love fish, since there are plenty of other options to choose from. However, for starters, we share the smaller plates of Barry Fish pastrami (£13) and the octopus (£14).
Both are beautiful, so there’s a nibble of one, then the other, then reverse. We can’t settle on a winner.
The cool and gummy trout pastrami has a crust of black pepper and coriander oil, and has been marinated in treacle, with a handful of wrinkly dehydrated mauve grapes on top and some aioli on the side.
Our octopus features an elegantly coiled tentacle, which is crispy on its outer edges, and is served on a fluffy whipped feta with a large dollop of olive oil-y persillade, though there are more interesting herbs in there along with the usual parsley.
Next we try the house-smoked haddock kedgeree (£16), partially because it’s one of my husband's signature dishes, and he wants to see how it measures up against his own effort. The server tells us it comes with a peekaboo egg. Indeed, this soft yolked oeuf is popping its wee pate above the pile of turmeric-coloured, fragrant, creamy and velvety masala rice. Hiya.
This dish is luxurious and beautiful, and there are pickled pops of flavour at the bottom of the bowl, to keep you spooning. This is not weeknight tea fare. I can tell my other half wants to go home, scrunch up his own recipe and burn it.
Bryson has also pimped-up another humble classic with the fishcakes (£16).
The pair of Panko crumbed and sea-salted bollards are low on mashed potato filler, but made with lots of trout and hake, with dill fronds and interesting herbs threaded through the mix. It comes, simply and classily, with an endive salad that’s topped by a lemony and vinegary dressing, plus pickled fennel and tiny nonpareille capers.
There are just three puddings. I’d seen another table taking delivery of the Port of Leith trifle (£10), which is made with sherry from the eponymous distillery.
That’s right up my street, but it’s not Christmas yet and it did look slightly too hefty, so we shared the marmalade ice-cream (£8) and chocolate caramel (£10).
The chocolate one was such a rich treat - a glossy dome, with a darker mousse layer, then a milkier salted cremeaux, and a large dollop of sticky caramel blobbed onto the top. In the heart of the hemisphere, was a single caramel button. My husband bagged it. Lucky devil.
We enjoyed the vanilla-speckled ice-cream too, which was served in a pot with a caramelised bitter orange lid, like creme brulee.
I also need to be uncouth and mention the prices. I mean, we ate like queens and the costs were very reasonable, in a city where it seems almost impossible to get a main course for under twenty quid. I also had an excellent cocktail , the Leith Sunshine Punch , with Lind & Lime Gin, pineapple, strawberry, lemon and fizz, which comes in at £12. No wonder everyone’s raving about this place.
Anyway, I’m very relieved I finally made it to Bryson’s permanent home.
It’s not just barry, it’s pure dead barry, with a large blob of caramel on top.
62 Shore, Edinburgh (0131-625 0000, www.barryfish.co.uk)
Comments
Want to join the conversation? Please or to comment on this article.