Six or more course menus have become the default offering from our most ambitious and talented chefs and I understand why - they want to use the best of stuff to create a coherent meal where every element is in harmony.
I get that - and I'm not complaining about having to eat multiple exquisite dishes for a living. It's just that long, fancy, spendy dinners do not fit easily into most of our lives.
When we are not celebrating a birthday with a zero at the end or asking someone to marry us, we don't have the time or budget to allow a chef to let off all the fireworks.
What I - and I suspect lots of other folk - do want is the same level of skill and dedication but in a cheaper, quicker, more flexible format.
Thankfully, some of the most skilled operators in the business are getting the message. Tom Kitchin's new spot, Kora, is a good example.
Now Dean Banks, a finalist on MasterChef The Professionals in 2018, has opened Dulse in Edinburgh's Queensferry Street. This is practically across the road from his Pompadour restaurant which is amazing but a whole evening of serious financial and calorific commitment.
Dulse dials it down several notches. The menu still relies on his signature fish and seafood but can be mixed and matched as small plates or constructed into individual courses.
There are also enticing cocktails - Banks makes the wonderful Lunan gin, which features in many of them. And oysters, which seemed the perfect way to start a Tuesday tea time.
The oysters were premium specimens, sumptuous and tasting of the sea. You are, I said to my best friend as we tipped them back with the salty gin, only old once.
The drinks even came with a spoonful of caviar - you don't need to have four different appetisers and petit fours to add in decadent touches.
Dulse's larger seafood main courses were very tempting but we wanted to try as many different dishes as possible.
Some, like the Arbroath Smokie tart, appear in different forms in Dean's other restaurants. Here this belter gets the - much deserved - spotlight.
If the filling had not demanded all my attention, I would have wondered how the kitchen got the pastry to be so thin and crispy. It was astonishingly unsoggy, despite being filled with a hefty layer of smoked fish pâté, then topped with crème fraîche and powdered dulse. Taken altogether, in a disintegrating mouthful, this was spectacular.
The Singapore mussels were another blinder. Mussels are robust enough to take a hefty pelt of flavour - here, a sweet, chilli-spiked tomato sauce. The waitress urged us to order bread for mopping - and she earned her tip right there. The loaf, crumbly and white, with shards of caramelised leek, was pretty special on its own. Swiped through the rich mussel broth, it was even better.
Two quivering scallops, cooked in the kitchen's version of Cafe de Paris butter, were a welcome change of pace. A browned butter sauce, with seaweed replacing some of the usual herbs and shallots, were all these beauties needed. Sometimes the best thing a chef can do is stand well back.
Octopus, well cooked, is one of my favourite things to eat. This fat tentacle was perfectly done, substantial and meaty without being chewy. There was a burnt tomato sauce and a puddle of herby green oil to moisten it further.
A small mound of barley was the only mouthful of the meal I did not adore. Even in the hands of a master like Dean, this coarse grain always tastes like it was cooked by a Russian peasant in a bad mood. With such a tiny portion, it was easy to ignore.
Whoever thought of putting lobster on a crumpet deserves a medal from the government. The holes in the soft bun soaked up the lush, lobstery juices. The whole thing threatened to fall to delicious bits at any minute, yet somehow held it together for long enough to make it to my mouth. Which is now watering at the memory.
For those who are not begging for mercy, Dulse has two desserts, or cheese. The set cream with honey, fat black cherries and sunflower seed brittle was a pottery bowl of joy. It felt deceptively healthy, even light, when I'm sure it was no such thing.
The genius touch was the basil oil dotted on top of the luscious cream. It pulled the flavours together and elevated a strong dessert into a stunning one.
Dulse is a great addition to Edinburgh's already very impressive restaurant scene. It makes it possible to eat food of the highest quality without making along expensive evening of it. Unless, of course, you want to. In which case, you have come to the right place.
Bill for two: £144.50
DULSE, 17 Queensferry Street, Edinburgh, EH2 4QW
0131 573 7575
Opening hours: Tuesday, 5pm-12 midnight
Wednesday to Saturday, 12 noon -12 midnight
Marks
Total 23/30
Food 8/10 - Exceptional
Decor 4/5 - Smart but quirky
Toilets 4/5 - Pretty
Service 4/5 - Charming and personal
Value for money 3/5 - Spendy but special
