A few years back I had the good fortune of meeting Sandy Ramasy (of W’est Solutions) through work, and since then she has seamlessly segued from ‘contact’ to the category of ‘friend’ . We have a shared Canadian upbringing (cue lots of chat about Tim Hortons and BBQ), and a love of and interest in good food & wine. We headed along to Channings for some eats and a long-awaited catch up. The four- star hotel on Learmonth Avenue has had a tricky year, in that it’s one of the hotels sold off by the Townhouse Collection. I am a proud ‘ex-townhouse’ employee, and give my alma mater huge credit for my career in hospitality.
Sadly but inevitably, business, circumstances and time move on. And so it was that the ‘Edinburgh Collection’ (see what they did with the name there?), owners of the ‘not-exactly fabulous’ Old Waverley, bought over Channings, along with sister hotel The Howard earlier this year. I was curious to see how much had changed in the months since Channings had been taken over, and so Sandy and I arranged a date for dinner last week.
First-off, I’ll admit that the Brasserie/Restaurant has had its own fair share of identity crises over the years (anyone remember the ‘Ochre Vita’ phase?) and the restaurant is a fairly tricky sell given its basement location on a quiet side street. We wandered into the bar which looked the same as before, but with replacement furniture of a slightly grubby nature. The staff were friendly enough, if a tad lax in the uniform front.
We had a refreshing glass of crispy Chilean sauv blanc in the bar to start, and were then told we could move through to the restaurant. To join the lone diner already in there, as it transpires. He effused an air of business traveller, expense account and British stiff-upper-lip. I lamely offered a smile to this guy as we were ushered to the precise and scientifically exact opposite end of the dining room. Way to give a chap a complex. Anyway, then it struck me – of course- the classic trick of filling up the window tables so that passers-by can see that the place is A) busy and thus B) desirable.
Except that despite the rare august evening of late sunshine, the blinds behind the window table we were seated at were drawn quite firmly closed. Huh? The hapless server explained it was because the view wasn’t the best. Well, here’s a tip. The view of a whitewashed newtown basement on a sunny night is always going to win hands-down over the view of a grey blind.
With no attempt at being sold a nibbly-something or sharing dish to start, we went straight in with ordering starters and mains. As (quote from server) ‘You get bread with that anyway….’. So we kicked off with starters, having chosen from the decent please-all choices available, and three courses at an average £25pp. Sandy began with goats cheese and beetroot, that quite literally was a grilled chunk of goats cheese, a few dry slices of beetroot carpaccio and a salad garnish. It was deemed ‘tasty enough’ but the absence of any type of moisture was a bit odd. I had a ham hough terrine, which again came with some garnish including a wee bit of slaw with mustard; but no chutney. Was there a chutney drought in the kitchen? Is it deemed too obvious to serve with starters here? The pressed meat terrine itself was excellent, lovely deep salty and meaty flavours and a delicate composition which isn’t always easy. But my mouth was crying out for some kind of sweet foil to the ham. Hmm.
Main course for Sandy was herb-crusted sea bass with broad beans and lyonnaise style potatoes.Fish was over-cooked, though well seasoned, but again a glaring omission on the plate in the absence once more of any type of sauce. No butter. No joy. I ordered a my steak medium-rare (comme toujours) and it arrived verging on the well done. I wasn’t in the ‘send stuff back’ mood, so I munched away at what was nevertheless a good steak, sporting a chunk of garlicky butter, sitting atop a pile of roasted cherry tomatoes. They were without doubt the show-stoppers, the juiciness a welcome relief and evidently well-sourced and seasonal as they were sweet as you like. A chunky mushroom was also a hit, but the tragic ‘five-times-fried’ potato wedges which came instead of chips. as billed on the menu, again let the side down .
Up ’til now, it had been a case of good ingredients, but lacking due attention in the kitchen. Surprisingly though, the two chocolate fondants we ordered came out of the kitchen in perfect time. A little wibbly tower of chocolate, ready to collapse and melt at the push of a spoon. Shame, then, that this was served with the most agressively chili-flavoured anything I think I’ve ever had apart from munching on an actual habanero; chili ice cream. Chilli infused chocolates from Iain Burnett are amazing, and I get how the whole chocolate & chili thing works; The Myans had this thing down a while back. My mouth just didn’t ‘get’ milky sweet ice cream and chilli.
Sandy said to the server ‘I don’t like it’. The server smiled and said ‘Yeh, loads of people say that’. I wondered aloud ‘Why’s it on the menu?’
We finished with a pot of tea for me , a coffee for Sandy and left with an extreme case of the ‘oh dear’s . We passed their 2010 AA Rosette on the way out. Yes, the kitchen is sourcing ingredients of a good standard and the menu has potential. The front of house folk are friendly, yet lacklustre. Somewhere along the line, the attention has left the building (along, it seems with any clientele) and sadly Channings will have to make some serious effort if there’s any chance of getting some company for that rosette plate.
ps ‘scuse the rubbish photos; they were Blackberry ones rather than the usual camera!
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