The Arches Restuarant

The Arches gets things off to a bad start. After being half heartedly deposited in a quiet corner of the restaurant, with some vague jabbing at the specials board, we are left alone to peruse our options. For 45 minutes.

Reader, I am a patient woman. I am a woman who will wait a long time for a delicious meal. Provided, that is, that wine is immediately proffered and gently pushed into my clammy little hand, with a friendly smile. Maybe even a wink. At the Arches, however, none of this is forthcoming. With much frenetic waving we catch the attention of two separate waiters and ask them if we might order yet: “Just a minute” we are told.

There is much to be made up for when the food arrives, so it had better be good. And, well, it is good. A starter of haddock, lightly cooked and served cold with boiled quail’s egg, is tangy and flavoursome, while smoked salmon with a piquant chilli and vodka dressing stings a little as it goes down – but it’s a wholesome nip.

A main of confit of duck on beetroot risotto is next. The duck is crispy and tender and the fresh cubes of beetroot and gloopy risotto a perfect complement. Meanwhile haggis, neeps and tatties, and steak, all drenched in a whisky sauce, is rich and nutty. The addition of the rare steak makes it perhaps one of the most masculinely Scottish sights I’ve witnessed since that kilted guy in the advert for porridge oats. Both are tasty.

Sour cherry frangipane and chocolate brownie desserts are both sweetly delicious, but with the noise of the bar seeping through to the restaurant area, and The Gossip on at club volume throughout, the atmosphere is a little schizophrenic. The Arches needs to try a lot harder, and maybe crack a smile. [Louise Loftus]