Purslane Restaurant, Edinburgh

Purslane. No, not one of those Gaelic names which irritate me, but probably equally incomprehensible to most. By coincidence, the first time I ever saw it referred to was quite recently, in a cook book in Portugal, the one from which I sourced the recent green beans recipe. It's a green leafy plant with, apparently, quite a few uses both raw and cooked. The Portuguese book suggested watercress as an alternative.

Chef Patron Paul Gunning tells me he uses it a fair bit, as he does a lot of other foraged produce. Unlike many places they don't bang on about it. In fact, the absence of banging on was one of the many reasons L and I enjoyed our evening so much.

I'd booked Lyla for our anniversary dinner, but they called me up to say that they couldn't cope with the cream allergy. Well, Mr Ralston & Co, I have news for you. In a kitchen quarter of the size of yours, and with a menu at half the price, Paul and his team seemed to manage just dandy and grandy. I have in the past marvelled at the tiny spaces from which so many terrific meals emanate. When I went for a post dinner chat, there were four chefs there in a postage stamp. We had witnessed one leaving earlier. That's a lot of mouths to feed from a place with only 16 or 18 covers.

Never mind. Wearing my reviewer's hat the only gobs to focus on are ours. At night, it's tasting menus only. Five courses for £75, or seven for £95. In each case cheese is available for a supplement. Regular readers will know that I've been a little sniffy of late about the concept of a tasting menu. Aargh! The Concept! See what this can reduce a man to. (I should add, that's me using the word, not them.)

But I have also commented on the bits which I love, not least the wee canapés. I had a crispy tart with something creamy and probably cheesy, L receiving a goat's cheese alternative. I forget what the other two were. Scoffed in flash, really getting the juices going. So the mini loaves with beetroot butter also disappeared quite quickly. It was the late Michael Winner who judged a place by how promptly his food arrived. He would have been happy here. One of the many advantages to the kitchen of a tasting menu. No need to wait for tickets coming in.

A trio of scallops appeared and disappeared in a trice. Mine had a bed of Jerusalem artichoke purée. As with all the dishes here, the garnish was subtle and interesting. A topping of rhubarb and celery? Who would have thought of that? It was described as barigoule, which is a stewed vegetable recipe more normally associated with artichokes. A vegetable salsa too. That's a heck of a lot of work for one dish.

The one plate which disappointed was the haggis. Haggis bon bons - yawn. Surely you can go to any tourist dive for those? Here chef was trying a very clever take on haggis, neeps and tatties, but it didn't come off. Rereading the menu I see that they came with pickled and puréed turnip. Don't think either of us noticed. What we both commented on was the mushy texture. The batter not cooked? suggested L. Knowing there was no chance of that from a kitchen of this quality, I settled down to an exploratory dissection. The haggis had been wrapped in a layer of potato before being fried. With a whisky sauce (something which I don't usually care for) it was all very tasty, but seemed odd.

Back on form with the hogget? I wouldn't damn it with such faint praise - this was a contender for plate of the year, and it was only March. Described as loin, there was also a bit of salted (or was it confit?) sheep, a spring roll with the shoulder, and separate dish of braised leg. I may have missed one component. After a bit of a search I located a doll's house dauphinoise. That as you know, contains cream, so a Borrower in the kitchen had sautéed two or three micro slices just so L wouldn't feel left out. Sensational stuff.

They'd been having fun playing around with pre-desserts, I was told. Honey parfait  - great. And topped with a carrot and chilli sorbet - whit? Interesting sampled separately, quite brilliant as a combination. Then a simple main dessert. You know the sort of thing - coffee and chocolate layered pannacotta, chicory and coffee syrup, tiramisu and coffee ice cream. Basic Sunday lunch stuff, really. And there were two plates of equal complexity for the non cream eater. I was too busy going ooh and aah to register what they were.

All the food was brought with a minimum of description. They have the grace to assume that you can read the menu. So more pluses there. But no, you can't take it home. Why not? - because it's on an iPad.  Our main server was Gregor who's been there almost from the beginning with a gap of a few years in the middle. For waiters, sir and madam are ingrained. I'd be happier without them, but these things are second nature. Young sir and my lady, on the other hand, are an affectation first time round, and really, really annoying after the third or fourth repetition. Gregor, you are a very nice man but please, please, cut that out.

I suspect it wasn't Gregor who dropped the second service clanger. Ordering drinks I was just after a small sparking water - L doesn't touch the stuff. Not available, and I expressly declined a 750ml bottle. So, returning from the loo I was surprised to find one open and poured. Yours for £5.95, guv. I have no idea why I can tolerate the trade's ludicrous markups on wine, but not on water. So that's a bit more knocked off the service score.

We finished with a quartet of home made sweeties. I don't have the world's sweetest tooth, but I made an exception for these. At the end of the evening I was fortunate enough that Paul made time for a chat. We chuckled a bit about restaurant reviewers, but my lips are sealed. Astonishing to realise that Purslane has been here since 2011. Surely, I thought, we must have reviewed this before. Apparently not. I learn that Paul is also co-owner of Dùthchas (yes, that one is a silly Gaelic name) on the site of the former Aurora in Leith. Tell you what, I won't be leaving it 14 years till I head there.

Looking back, L and I can't remember when we last left a restaurant with such a warm feeling. That, surely, is what eating out is all about.

Next to try -

Dùthchas, 187 Great Junction Street, Edinburgh EH6 5LQ 

0131 287 2600  www.duthchas-restaurant.co.uk