Montrose, Edinburgh

What's sauce for the goose, I say.

No, this isn't a sequel to the recent duck recipe. The gander in question, to wit L, was out to lunch. Unusual for a Friday, which tends to be the one day in the week when we have relatively quiet schedules (apart, obviously, from publishing for your pleasure at 1700).

So a cunning plan was required to keep me out of mischief. Hoovering, perchance? Don't be ridiculous - though there is another tale to tell there. General housework? The place looks fine to me, as it usually does. Cooking? Always a possibility, but today, out of house was calling. A royal summons, you might say.

For a good few months I had been intending to visit the King's Gallery at Holyrood, more particularly to see the Drawing the Italian Renaissance exhibition. Leonardo, Michelangelo, Raphael, Titian. All here in Edinburgh. How could you miss it? You have just over a fortnight. It ends on Sunday 8 March. Stunning, just stunning.

And with the forward thinking and advance planning that is the hallmark of Tom's Food!, I realised that L would not require feeding that evening. Thus, to avoid being out of synch, lunch at Montrose was arranged. You just turn left at the palace, stroll past Queen Mary's Bathhouse, up Abbeyhill - the same road she would have taken in 1561 - and there you are at Montrose.

I learn that the building was an inn built in the 19th century. It no doubt serviced weary travellers planning to enter Edinburgh from the east across the shiny new Waterloo Bridge. Having lived not far from there in the 1970s, I remember it as a rather scuzzy pub, that not being a rarity in the area.

It's now part of the Radford empire, along with Timberyard. The Radfords are very successful veterans in the industry. I was going to write, spoken of as restaurant royalty, but after the recent actions of Thames Valley Police I scrapped that. Let's just say that they are held in very high regard. Timberyard recently won a Michelin star. Before that, they had Atrium and Blue in the building which now houses the Traverse Theatre and Dine.

Whisper it, but I've never been their number one fan. Blue was an early exponent of these let's have everything with a hard surface places where you couldn't hear yourself think. The legendary Jonathan Meades came to town and gave Atrium 4/10. Edinburgh was appalled, but I agreed with him. Timberyard? Quirky, different, yes, but it got an OK 19.5 a couple of years ago. So I had mixed expectations despite the rave reviews.

On the days it is open - difficult to find from the website - food is available all day from the a la carte. At dinner, I think you are steered to what they describe as a sharing menu, which is a tasting menu in normal speak. £85 a head. I was attracted by the new set lunch menu, priced at £35, available 1200 - 1430 Friday to Sunday. Today's review is based on that.

The Radfords don't waste money on decoration. I have no issue with that. I didn't see the upstairs dining room which holds, I believe, about 15. I liked the stripped down, cream painted downstairs room, matching the exterior; however, the staircase to the upstairs loo did remind me of the flat from Trainspotting. But the food's the thing.

Be aware that there is no choice at all, although I thought I heard waiter Tony offering another option to a neighbouring table. Don't quote me on that. Tony is like the place itself, cool and laid back. And also very friendly. I was also looked after by Sam. Similar. An interesting selection of wines by the glass. A bit dear for a 175ml, I thought. Nope, that's for 125. Unusual choices: organic, very good, and very expensive.

The menu features a few additions. It almost goes without saying that the bread and seaweed butter are made inhouse, the pastry chef also servicing the mother ship at Timberyard. Splendid. I was also curious about the Cantabrian anchovy gilda*. A gilda is a classic Basque pinxto, comprising an olive (in this case half of a large Gordal olive) on either end of a cocktail stick. In the middle is an anchovy fillet wrapped round a guindilla pepper. The latter is a medium hot green chilli. A lovely combination, but let your mouth settle before going back to your wine. At a fiver each, neither is bad value, but as always with small plates places be aware that the bill can mount up.

So chef is going to serve pheasant terrine, eh? I did warn Tony that I make a pretty mean one myself. I don't think the kitchen was phased. A fine example with kumquat mostarda. If you haven't previously encountered these Italian fruit mustards, beware. A typical recipe will include two tablespoons of mustard seeds, plus cayenne pepper for extra heat. Approach with care.

On to a plate of Gloucester Old Spot with coco beans and wild garlic. It was collar of pork (at this price you expect fillet?) and obviously a little chewy, but flavoursome. Coco beans are just small white beans. The overall combination was wonderful. I had gone for a glass of expensive red to go with it. That too was wonderful. (When you read the value for money score, remember I don't include wine in the calculation.) The service was, yes, you guessed, wonderful.

Well, we're at the dessert stage. I don't usually do pud. I'd asked Tony earlier what would happen if I wanted only two courses. Don't worry, he said, we'll make an adjustment. Sod it. With cooking of this quality, let's see how they treat a plate entitled Quince, rose & pistachio rice pudding. Yes, you've guessed again. It was fab. Served cold, which surprised me a little. Middle eastern style puds featuring rosewater can sometimes smell of little old ladies' dressing tables. I don't think chef had encountered one of these. A stunningly balanced dish, the tartness of the stewed quince a perfect counterpoint to the sweetness of the rice.

Reluctant to leave, I chatted to chef. Continuing the literary comparison, his kitchen seemed to be about the same size as Harry Potter's cupboard under the stairs at The Dursley house. I felt no need to provide any advice, nor to offer a subscription to Tom Cooks! Be aware that this did not end up as a cheap lunch, and I have read grumbles about prices upstairs; however, I can only call it as I see it, and I saw a pretty darn perfect day out.

*For the food anoraks, it is believed the the gilda was invented in the 1940s by Joaquín Aramburu "Txepetxa", a regular customer of  Bar Casa Vallés in San Sebastián. A 1946 film, Gilda, had starred Rita Hayworth. Our Joaquín described Hayworth as green, salty and spicy. Rita Hayworth green? Who knew?