Avery Restaurant — Restaurant in City of Edinburgh

I decided to go for the chef's menu (nearly double the price of the standard tasting) as it was a special treat and a couple of the supplemental courses caught my eye. The basic wine pairing for this option was a staggering £289, so I elected to purchase by the bottle/glass. The wine list had a decent selection of fine wines with the average being in the £250 range. I saw no prices by the glass but was informed they could provide a BTG selection using Coravin. The meal started with a nice gazpacho to cleanse the palate which I enjoyed. Then onto a tartlet of bluefin tuna with a generous spoonful of Antonius caviar on top, served with a jelly in the spine of the tuna. This was delicious and set a good precedent for the meal. The fairly small raw Orkney scallop that followed was overpowered by a very tart sauce of fermented pineapple. The tartlet of beetroot was prepared very nicely, albeit quite sweet and lacking in salt. The accompanying shiso leaf with oyster and lardo was also precisely cooked, but lacking in any seasoning other than the brininess of the oyster itself. A very nicely cooked langoustine with pancetta, trout roe, caviar, and seaweed was next, the pancetta and fish roes providing nice seasoning. The doughnut that came on the side was virtually tasteless. The "bits and bobs from the sea" for the next course came with a nice variety of well cooked seafood and a lovely sauce with a coconut base. This had nice depth of flavour comparable to a laksa. The grilled mackerel that came with it was delicious, however the turbot lacked seasoning and had an indistinct flavour. Following that was the chef's signature tortellini in brodo, served in a somewhat silly vessel with a fine broth and a few tortellini with very little flavour. This had some Australian winter truffle added to it, which are lacked any aroma or flavour. The following course featured wood pigeon and I had high hopes for it, but they had made a mousse of it and stuffed it into a cheap shiitake. There was very little hint of the vadouvan spices and it was topped with the same lacklustre truffle from the previous course. The final savoury course was a tiny portion of sika deer. It was nicely cooked, but like many courses before it lacking in seasoning. The accompanying chanterelles and puree were lovely, but the sauce on the plate was watery and had little flavour. The pre-dessert was a riff on the American pecan pie in the form of a cheese tart, this was fine, albeit a bit unbalanced. The dessert of custard and strawberries was good, but nothing special. The petit fours were also nice.

The service was polite and efficient, but not particularly welcoming or warm. The same could be said for the dining space, but that is certainly subjective and not the focus of my experience. I requested oolong tea at the end of the meal. I asked about its origin and the man serving me simply said "Taiwan" with no indication of where it was from or the type of oolong. The tea that came out was over brewed and bitter. I'm not sure it was actually oolong as it was very dark in colour, and tasted more akin to a Taiwanese rolled black tea. The chef/owner seems to spend most of his time in the dining room chatting and serving customers. This isn't entirely unusual in a restaurant like this but given the inconsistent quality of the food coming out he may be better served spending some time on the pass tasting what's going out. It was a grand total of £629 for one person for the menu, a £160 bottle of white Burgundy, plus an additional glass of a decent red and a horribly prepared tea. One could eat and drink well at any three Michelin star restaurant in the country at this price point, and such inconsistencies at a restaurant of this level are totally unacceptable. What looked to be a promising addition to the Edinburgh food scene turned out to be a disappointment. You would be better served going to any of the other starred restaurants in the city to experience the truly warm and generous hospitality of Edinburgh at a far better...

By a Man and women who Ate.

To start, They brought the caviar in like it was nuclear material — placed it beside the mother-of-pearl spoons (I think) and me and my partner did the whole ritualistic cabaret of the refined. It glistened under the light like oil. Black pearls of such obscene luxury that you half expect them to start whispering tax havens and discreet divorces. Nonetheless, it was truly delicious, somehow I knew this place was going to be different. The difference? Well It’s the first time I’ve truly felt story, texture, taste could flow so well throughout a tasting menu. It was slick, delicate and hard thought out.

Now I don’t drink alcohol heavily anymore - this was by my standards was my only disappointment with Avery. ‘The poor selection of soft drinks’ , i would of easily paid for a paired soft drink - something Montrose does very very well. :so I resorted to a touristic Malt whisky mid tasting menu — just enough for the room to develop that slow fuzz. At this point in the evening i had developed such a dislike to the awful steel radiator beside me. It’s a finish that didn’t appreciate in an establishment that got everything right. It was like they tried to euthanise it with farrow and ball emulsion. It stood there like a guilty dog in a designer hotel slouching against the wall muttering about neglect. — brush strokes thick, shameful, hurried — like the decorator knew they were desecrating something and did it anyway. And I couldn’t unsee it.

My obsession with the radiator subsided as Each course felt like reel of signature dishes. The staff had the kind of reserved warmth only found in people who’ve previously been told off by a Scandinavian sommelier in a different establishment.

The pottery and utensils were exciting . Albeit almost verging on the ubsurd when the tortellini arrived . The oyster tasted like betrayal in a silk robe. Not salty like the ocean — salty like a banker’s tears after a failed second marriage. It melted with the lazy grace of old money, leaving nothing behind but the metallic whisper of ambition!!!

You don’t eat at avery. You absorb it. Through the tongue, through the eyes, through the bit of your brain that usually worries about overdraft debt and the ethics of foie gras ( and sadly not on the menu). And for a moment as I ate each course — a fleeting, dizzying moment — I understood why revolutions happen or dynasties fail. Because no one should have access to this type of decadence and expect to live forever- no sir.

And so? Averys tasting experience was divine. Dare I ever say Transcendent on the later courses. I left floating off the ground with the little gift after the deserts , drunk on brine and bourgeois delusion, clutching the receipt like it was evidence in a future tribunal.

Would I go back? Absolutely. But id bring a new radiator...

In the swirling resurgence of Edinburgh's culinary scene, a notable new performer emerged in the form of Chef Rodney Wages' and his (soft) launch of his new restaurant, Avery Edinburgh (previously the site of Jason Gallagher’s ‘The Stockbridge Restaurant’), 54 St Stephen’s Street, Stockbridge. The stakes were high as Wages, famed for his Michelin-starred Avery, San Francisco, orchestrated a £150 per person opus, tantalizingly titled as a preview to his forthcoming formal launch of Avery, Edinburgh in 2024.

The evening commenced with a generous offering of complimentary champagne, a gracious prelude to what unfolded over a somewhat mysterious 12-course tasting extravaganza. In the basement property in Stockbridge’s St Stephen’s Street, Avery seamlessly blurred the lines between the front and back of house, with Wages himself donning various hats, conducting his culinary concerto with finesse and warmth.

A modest gathering of 16 covers ensured an intimate showcase of Rodney Wages' prowess, however the flow of dishes from the kitchen was occasionally uneven, with the service treating the individual tables as one. Had I been drinking the paired wines, I’m certain I would not have noticed. The menu, a broad spectrum of flavours, melded familiar notes from his Michelin-starred Californian repertoire whilst ingeniously integrating locally inspired elements; a culinary dialogue spanning continents.

The array of dishes were testament to Wages' and his team’s skill and experience. Each course was delivered with grace and precision. From the delicate dance of langoustine, served as a mint and coconut Southeast Asian curry, to my personal highlight, of the entire contents of a cheese board being served on top of a single pastry case; the balance of flavours orchestrated a harmonious ode to fine dining.

However, the true brilliance lay not just in the dishes themselves but in the intimate experience crafted by the seamless intertwining of front and back of house roles. The warmth and friendliness exuded by the staff reflected the essence of Avery's ethos: a celebration of culinary excellence without a hint of pretence.

It's worth noting that while the flavours were undeniably exquisite, some may find the price point a sonata of indulgence. Yet, this soirée was not just a meal; it was a symphony of taste and technique, a celebration of Wages' vision for the culinary arts.

As the festive season embraced us, Avery Edinburgh emerged as a delightful Christmas treat, a prelude teasing the grand opus that Chef Wages promises to unveil in the New Year. With anticipation, we await the formal launch, anticipating what this culinary maestro will bring forth...