Restaurant review: The Abbotsford Above, Edinburgh By Richard Bath Published on Tuesday 10 January 2012 00:00 Seriously. It wasn't the hordes of co-workers wearing paper hats and engaging in false jollity that put us off, because there weren't any. And it wasn't even the fact that at 10pm each evening a Sainsbury's van pulls up outside and half a dozen guys spend the next hour and a half noisily dragging trolleys of food across the paving stones that put my back up. It was - surprise, surprise - the food. Now, before this turns into a hatchet job (oops, too late), it's worth bearing in mind that the Abbotsford Arms has a lot going for it. A quaint little pub with a fantastic antique island bar rivalled in the capital only by that at the Cafe Royal, a tip-top selection of whiskies, superlative beers, the sort of ornate cornicing my mum would die for, and the best position in Rose Street (well, at least until Sainsbury's gatecrashed the party), the Abbotsford is a boozer of legend for many Edinburgh folk. And at first sight, many of those same qualities are shared by its eatery upstairs. It's a bit faux posh, with some unfortunate modern touches, but actually the place has the makings of a nice space. There's the same original cornicing, a well-proportioned room and views out over Rose Street. Oh, and the staff are fantastically considerate and knowledgeable: one gave us the history of the building and how the neighbouring Jenners Depository burnt down, leading to the flats on the site of the Abbotsford being converted into a pub. It was a genuinely fascinating insight into the development of a bit of Edinburgh I thought (wrongly) that I knew quite well. But the food; oh my word. The piece de resistance was Vicky's starter of smoked trout with apple and horseradish compote. Or at least that's what she thought she had ordered. What she actually got were a pair of stale doorstopper slices of bread with two tiny fillets of smoked trout plonked on top, accompanied by a desultory salad (ie lettuce) and a little chrome curry-house-style bowl of mayonaissey gunk that was presumably a late stand-in for the compote. Not since Little Chef was in its greasy pomp, back in the 1970s, have I seen anything so entertainingly rubbish, although, with a price tag of £6.55 the joke fell a bit flat. Honestly, when it arrived I had a sneaky peek to see if there were any hidden cameras in case it was some big wind-up and we were about to appear on the special Christmas edition of You've Been Framed. By comparison, my eight sticky ginger and chilli prawns sashayed across the plate as if they were auditioning for Strictly Come Dancing. This dish was fine as far as it went, but it was still freezer and sauce-from-a-jar fodder. The accompanying salad wasn't the best so I just left it (I've developed something close to a phobia about salad since a friend of mine who once worked in a restaurant where I occasionally eat confessed that uneaten salad was regularly, ahem, "recycled" on to the next plate). If I wasn't quite quivering with dread at the prospect of our main courses, nor was I particularly excited, but what followed marked a quantum leap in quality. Although the green beans, carrots and new potatoes were overdone, my pan-fried duck breast was actually pretty tender and the black cherry sauce wasn't the thick gloopy morass I'd feared. This was actually not bad; only worth about half of the £17 it cost, but not too shabby. Vicky's beer-battered haddock was also a nice piece of fish that had been well cooked. The batter was more than a little soggy, but by now she was grateful for small mercies, and this was a stellar composition compared to her dirge of a starter. Pudding was a return to form for me, with my rhubarb, ginger and pear crumble a stolid mass in which the crumble had the consistency of wet sawdust, although the ice-cream was good (Mackies, I think). Vicky's apple pie was clearly home-made and, had it not been lukewarm, would definitely have passed muster. We won't be going back to Abbotsford Above. There are any number of hostelries in Edinburgh that now do really decent pub food - Iglu, Bon Vivant, the Caley Sample Room, the Doric, Holyrood 9A, the King's Wark, the Shore, the Old Bell, Roseleaf and the Saint all spring to mind, and there are dozens more - and for a fraction of the price. The Abbotsford has a fantastic position in one of the city's main tourist and visitor thoroughfares and it's a good-looking building both inside and out, but after being packed last year it was virtually empty this time around. It doesn't take a genius to work out why. The Abbotsford Above 3-5 Rose Street, Edinburgh (0131-225 5276, www.theabbotsford.com) Starters £3.85-£6.75 Main courses £9.75-16.95 Puddings £4.95 Cheese £6.75 Rating *** Ate to Z of Scotland Not only do we have a wealth of fabulous local produce on our doorsteps, we have a burgeoning number of top-notch shops, restaurants and delicatessens, selling artisan products and the best of everything yummy. Restaurant review: Bewildering menu but friendly vibe wins out WITH ITS low- slung lights, ubiquitous French advertising posters and blonde wood furniture, this new bistro could be located anywhere in the western world. Restaurant review: Seadogs, Rose Street, Edinburgh Seadogs 43 Rose Street, Edinburgh (0131-225 8028, www.seadogsonline.co.uk) How much? Lunch for two, excluding drinks £26.20