5 Hunter Square,
Royal Mile,
0131-225 5428
LE SEPT seems to be taking things for granted, which is not the way the French do it
THE thing about finding a niche and staying there is that it may seem you have reached your plateau of contentment - therefore, your work is done.
But if you follow that particular train of thought, someone or something invariably creeps up behind you, taps you on the shoulder by way of an introduction, then skilfully pulls the rug from under your feet.
Take the situation at Le Sept, for example. A couple of years ago, this French-styled bistro was hit with a massive 107 per cent increase in rent, forcing the owners to search for new premises.
Luckily they didn't have far to roam from Fishmarket Close and their adieu really was only to the bricks and mortar, because - according to one report at the time - the menu, style and most of the staff would transfer to the new premises on Hunter Square.
I guess comfort zones are hard to give up.
Sandwiched between a seafood restaurant and a hotel, this little eaterie caters for a real cross-section of diners.
Some might be tempted by the home-made crepes filled with savoury delights, such as smoked haddock, or if you're sweet toothed, a concoction of bananas and Belgian chocolate sauce. Others may prefer nothing more than soaking up some cafe culture while sipping a latte.
The owners certainly push the Gallic theme. But forget kitsch ropes of garlic or baguettes hanging out of paniers. Instead, your attention is directed to walls covered with giant-sized posters with bold French prints and black- and-white Robert Doisneau-influenced photographs. There is no reception area, you enter directly from the street, so it can get a bit noisy with the meeting and greeting business taking place under your nose.
And, if the weather's not too kind, it can get a bit draughty.
There are around 40 covers on the ground floor and a further 20 downstairs and the staff are kept busy going between the two.
But they are obviously adept at juggling, because we didn't have too long to wait before we were presented with the menu. Then, minutes later, we were asked if we had chosen our wine, but of course, we hadn't.
My dinner date takes his wine very seriously and spends time selecting the most appropriate for the occasion, and on this one, it just had to be Chablis. We'd both have preferred a bottle of red, but that particular list didn't grab us.
We kicked off proceedings with seafood - lobster for him and king prawns for me.
His starter had been grilled, dressed in a spicy tomato sauce then finished off with a topping of cheese. Well, that's how it read on the menu but it was quite different to what he sampled. The lobster was meagre and the sauce "reminiscent of a run-of-the-mill sugo".
You can't do too much to spoil pan-fried prawns, so I fared rather better, although I'd recommend that chef goes easy on the salt.
Next I was tempted by coq au vin, swept along by memories of this simple, dish at my French in-laws' home in Burgundy.
But somehow, I felt that no one else could quite match the matriarch of the family's recipe, so I chose instead fillet of organic salmon with fennel, pink peppercorn and white wine sauce.
I was really disappointed. I'd dined at a seafood restaurant a couple of weeks earlier and the salmon had been fantastically fresh. I'm afraid this offering didn't compare in any way and I left most of it untouched.
Mains number two arrived well presented - venison marinated in red wine and served with a sauce of your choice, which at this sitting, was berries and port. You have to be pretty impressed with the efficiency of a kitchen when your next course is placed in front of you minutes after your starter has been cleared away - that is until you taste it and discover it's cold.
Whether the plate had been sitting waiting to go out or it had been zapped earlier in a microwave who knows, but my wine connoisseur gave up with a shrug.
Bof! as the French exclaim when irritated.
With so many interesting restaurants opening in the city, it is sensible practice to keep ahead of a game.
Comfort zones are all well and good, but from time to time you need to stick your head above the parapet and question whether your niche market has changed rather more than you might imagine.
