The Doric, Edinburgh

In a city full of history one shouldn't really be surprised by anything old. But consider this. The Doric was built in the 17th century, and adapted to provide food in the 18th. The New Town wouldn't have existed; the fruit market wouldn't come for another couple of hundred years; and they must have looked out on to the Nor' Loch, with men slaughtering and butchering animals.

Access would have been via the most vertiginous of closes, as Cockburn Street wasn't formed until the 1860s. You would have exited Mary King's Close just next door. This is a place which has seen much life. It was also remarkable in that it started selling food a century or two before almost any other pub in the town. As now, downstairs was an alehouse, with food being served in the upstairs dining room. When I first became aware of it, it was owned by the legendary Jim McGuffie. I seem to recall that the pub was then called McGuffie's, the food being served upstairs in The Doric. A contact in the Lost Edinburgh group tells me that the boozer was popular with railway workers, staff from the garages at New Street, and, to lower the tone, traffic wardens.

Anyway, enough history. The Celebrated Artist and I were planning a trip to the City Art Centre, and this was a convenient place to break bread. I guess I must have been in the place before, but I certainly don't remember eating there. In Jim McGuffie's day the food by all accounts was wonderful. When he died, he left the place to his staff. How has it fared since then?

Well, decor wise, nothing much has changed for a while. Nothing wrong with that, of course. A warm welcome from Martyn. Not an Edinburgh accent, I remark. Nope, from Guildford via Albania. We never did get to the bottom of that.

For starters, half a dozen options, mostly the usual suspects, tiger prawns with chorizo being the only foreigners. We didn't know it at the time, but this was going to be a lunch of two halves. TCA's soup of the day, pea and asparagus, was rather good. I can't complain about my dish of sautéed mushrooms in a garlic and cream sauce slathered over a bit of baguette. Tasty enough, but wild mushrooms? In June? Really?

Vegetarians, beware. Not much for you here, especially on the day of our visit, when the lentil pie was off. For you it's Pearl Cous Cous Salad. Or chips. Five options here, including spicy, with a dip, with haggis and gravy, or Fancy. With the latter you get Parmesan and Truffle Dust. With that importance on the menu, you would expect great things, but I'm getting ahead of myself. TCA, back in Scotland for the first time in a while, ordered haggis. A generous portion, three big scoops: good haggis, well made mash and bashed neeps. I've always believed you can tell a lot about a place by their fish and chips, especially when they proclaim the batter and tartare sauce to be home made, and the chips hand cut.

Well the batter was greasy, and the fish unpleasant. Frozen, I'm guessing. The tartare was mayo with a few specks. And the chips? Don't go there. Flabby and lukewarm. I didn't complain as such, but when I was paying the bill I was asked how it all was. The waitress expressed surprise at my comments. Odd about the chips, she said, we haven't been open long. Well that confirms it - yesterday's batch. Not good enough.

I know that prices have to keep pace, but I did feel they were a bit on the steep side. £32 for a sirloin steak is fine, but if you want chips, a sauce and a side salad you'll be up at £45 before service charge. Three standard puds are available, cheesecake, sticky toffee or ice cream. The latter is usually a slightly cheaper option. Admittedly I don't know the portion size, but £9.95 is on the high side for a dessert in what is basically a pub food place. Get what you pay for? Sadly my recent experience in central Edinburgh joints chasing the tourist dollar suggests that's not necessarily so.

Service? Martyn was affable throughout, but as the place got busier, things started to creak. Getting the bill took some time. Eventually I gave up and went to the bar to pay. TCA was happy. I'd score his food a 6; sadly mine gets a 3. I now discover that Jim McGuffie died in April 1982. (As an aside, I'm told he left the place to his staff.) Were he looking down today I don't think he'd be happy.