It was only after they descended the stairs to the bar area that Joe realised he was ducking his…read morehead. A full week had passed since a section of the ceiling had fell away - mere days after opening - only to be repaired within a matter of hours. Obviously the story had stuck in his mind but looking around he could see the staff buzzing about a hive of tables, most occupied by friends and lovers, lost in conversation
The Other Place was very much back in business.
Feeling a little foolish, and hoping Jennie hadn't noticed, he straightened up and they took their seats; a small, round, European-influenced table, far enough from the patio doors to avoid the glare of the sun yet close enough to appreciate the cooling breeze that whipped by outside.
Almost instantly they were greeted by their waitress, a petit and cheerful girl with an accent that served to echo their surroundings. They placed the usual drinks order: a white wine (large) for her; a Jack and Coke (Diet) for him.
Typically they discussed the events that had momentarily staggered the Other Place's opening week. Looking up, they could easily differentiate between old and new ceilings. The largest flat section was now a spread of grey mortar, but all the rest retained its classic elegance. There were three sections over the bar area in all, chandeliers hung centrally from all, but the older two also held circular mirrors that rounded the light fixtures, and the detailed cornicing, with its ornate engravings, were captivating.
A moment later Joe spotted their drinks, albeit atop a waiter's tray that was headed the wrong way. The waiter seemed not to know where the beverages were destined to be but Joe certainly did and intervened just as the waitress with the accent pointed out their table.
The summer weather had drawn an unexpected crowd, or so it seemed from the tables that had been amassed inside. This by no means made their stay uncomfortable but the impromptu table layout was obviously leading the waiting staff a merry chase as a result. Spirits were high and the waiter made his apologies by way of some charming banter, which they both appreciated.
Then their waitress returned. "Ready to order?" she said with an enthusiastic smile.
"Absolutely," Joe replied. "If the portion is big enough, we'd like to share the Spicy Shrimp and Chorizo starter...?"
He glanced at Jennie as he spoke, her cool green eyes glittering thoughtfully as if she was trying to calculate how much food she might manage, before she confirmed his choice with a nod.
Joe smiled appreciatively, "And for mains...?" He gestured to his partner to take the lead.
"I'll have the Chilli Cheese Dog with extra Fried Onions," Jennie said, decisively.
"And for me, the Juicy Lucy with the Hash Brown topping."
While they waited for their first course, they took in the place. Beforehand it had been an old gentleman's public house, with a name involving a Stag or some other woodland creature no doubt. The transformation was impressive; the room in which they sat now the bar area, while the upper level housed the open-face kitchen, artfully circled by an array of stools for those who wished to watch their food being prepared.
The bar itself was rather impressive too, Art Deco in style - much like the majority of the decor and furnishings - with a vast selection of bourbons and rums, whiskies and wines on display. Joe had heard rumour they stocked 100 various beers and ales back there too.
The Shrimp and Chorizo dish could not have been any better. A perfect sharing dish, but good enough to make Joe wish he'd bought his own. The shrimp soft and delicate, the chorizo veritably haemorrhaging flavour; it needed to be tried to be believed. Joe initially added the romantic touch of sharing the dish with the same fork, however he had clearly forgotten how slowly Jennie tended to eat, so - once he'd tasted that chorizo - snapped up the spare fork with fervour.
Equally so, they enjoyed their mains. The Chilli Dog as messy animal indeed, and Jennie used her cutlery wisely, albeit to Joe's horror (few things in this world must be eaten by hand but both burgers and hotdogs are at the apex of that list). The chilli itself, which they had experienced once before, was interesting in that it closer resembled pulled pork, but in no way was that a criticism; it was delightful.
The burger patty was handmade, and clearly so as it crumbled juicily with each bite. Stuffed with subtle cheese and topped with a flaky hash brown, his only gripe was that the latter was under-seasoned. Despite that negative, he made a note to contact all his friends on the quest for Edinburgh's Best Burger to take note of The Other Place.
The meal had been a test. A test of the Other Place and what they were bringing to the capital. A test of how they intended to compete with neighbouring Stockbridge without being as wanky. A test of why they could justify some of the prices on their menu.
It was test they passed.
