Aurora

187 Great Junction St.

EH65LQ Edinburgh

Scotland, UK

BY NEAL MARTIN | JUNE 09, 2023

The Food:

Salmon, kohlrabi with rock samphire and white gazpacho

Sardines with apricot, pine nuts and bay leaf

Asparagus with chickpeas, dill, potato and yeast

Croquette of duck confit with kimchi and spring onion

Cjarsons with hazelnut butter, cocoa nibs and rocket

Dry aged pork belly with black pudding, porcini and whisky

Aubergine with potato, vine leaves and baba ghanoush

Plant-based cheeses

Dark chocolate with mezcal, mango, habanero and peanuts

The Wines:

2008 Henri Boillot Meursault Les Cras 1er Cru	90
2013 Domaine Hubert Lignier Gevrey-Chambertin Aux Combottes 1er Cru	91
1986 Cheval Blanc	94

I love Edinburgh. The history, the castle, the bohemian atmosphere, the haggis, black pudding, kids in kilts, tartan tarmac, dogs in sporrans…On every street corner, someone is tossing the caber. Perhaps my view of the city is skewed by the fact that every time I go north of Hadrian’s Wall, clouds clear, and the sun comes out. Who said Scotland was perpetually rainy? And, of course, it boasts a thriving, dynamic restaurant scene that is second to none. I spent a weekend in Edinburgh for reasons I will explain in a future Vinous Table, suffice to say that on the first evening, a good friend booked a restaurant that typifies what makes Edinburgh a gastronomic nirvana.

Aurora amuse bouche

Technically, Aurora is not in Edinburgh. It’s in Leith, the port area north of the city, down towards the Firth of Forth. En route to the restaurant, I was informed that the two distinguish themselves from each other: You are either from Edinburgh or Leith. That said, Aurora is only a 10-minute ride from the town center. The area is a bit like East London, a once down-at-heel part of the city that attracted younger people who have created a vibrant and culturally-active part of town, which has inevitably led to investment in its empty industrial spaces. As is frequently the case, that has spawned a dynamic restaurant scene that can be hard to keep up with. In fact, Leith has the highest concentration of Michelin stars in Scotland, with destination restaurants such as Martin Wishart and The Kitchin attracting epicures from afar.

Salmon, kohlrabi with rock samphire and white gazpacho

Chef-patron Polish-born Kamil Witek opened Aurora, though I noticed his name is not mentioned on their website for some inexplicable reason. It is a tiny restaurant, so small that we almost drove straight past its front doors. I bet many do the same. The frontage must be little more than a couple of meters wide. Inside is virtually the size of a living room, probably around 18 covers, with a small serving area on the left, and the kitchen is at the rear. It is spartan in terms of Nordic décor, all stripped floors and bare pine tables, though it conjures a homely, cozy ambiance thanks to the candles and a touch of greenery. The menu can be described as modern European with an emphasis on local ingredients and several courses with either/or options, which is much more preferable to take-it-or-leave-it menus that abound these days.

Sardines with apricot, pine nuts and bay leaf

Every course was outstanding. From start to finish, there wasn’t a single dish that did not impress. The technical detail and the execution were quite brilliant and belied its unassuming exterior. The amuse bouche augured that we were in for a treat, a dish of vine tomatoes and pine nuts with a scoop of fresh mozzarella packed full of flavor.

Asparagus with chickpeas, dill, potato and yeast

The salmon tasted like it had been caught five minutes earlier, disguised under a mousse of kohlrabi, rock samphire and white gazpacho. Like most dishes, it was more of a tapas-sized portion, so I savored every mouthful. The sardines with apricot, pine nuts and bay leaf were perfectly cooked and seasoned; likewise, the asparagus that came with dill and a brittle potato and yeast wafer.

Croquette of duck confit with kimchi and spring onion

The croquette of duck confit oozed with succulence, the kimchi sweet and not overpowering, the spring onion imparting pepperiness that lent the dish a slightly bitter edge. The Cjarsons, a traditional pasta from Friuli, was the most aesthetically-pleasing dish, served with hazelnut butter, cocoa nibs and rocket. This was subtle in flavor with a lovely texture. I nabbed some of my neighbor’s dry-aged pork belly that was accompanied by black pudding, porcini and whisky, though I actually preferred my own aubergine that was wrapped in vine leaves, served with baba ghanoush inside a crunchy shell. I could have eaten this three times over.

Cjarsons with hazelnut butter, cocoa nibs and rocket

I skipped the quartet of plant-based cheeses, each served with its own unique jelly. I headed straight for the dark chocolate brownie and ganache flavored with mezcal, mango, habanero and peanuts. Stunning.

Dry aged pork belly with black pudding, porcini and whisky

The restaurant’s wine list is short and leans towards low-intervention wines. Customers can pay extra for a wine-matching menu, though we had prearranged to bring our own bottles.

Aubergine with potato, vine leaves and baba ghanoush

The 2008 Meursault Les Cras 1er Cru from Henri Boillot comes from century-old vines. It is a typically seductive wine in the Boillot mold: generous on the nose with light honeyed scents, frangipane, vanilla pod and grilled hazelnut aromas. The palate has impressive weight for the vintage, slightly lower in acidity than its peers, with maybe a little more sugar than I would have liked. Yet it is still well-balanced, a kind of “guilty pleasure” Meursault that doesn’t deliver the intellectual aspect of white Burgundy but tons of irresistible flavor. It’s drinking perfectly now.

Plant-based cheeses

The 2013 Gevrey-Chambertin Morey Aux Combottes 1er Cru from Domaine Hubert Lignier is still a couple of years outside its drinking window. With blackberry, iodine and a subtle dab of camphor on the nose, I felt that the aromatics remained rather closed despite aeration. The palate is quite bold in style considering the vintage, ripe and grippy with a slightly obdurate finish that needs time to mellow. Give it three more years.

Dark chocolate with mezcal, mango, habanero and peanuts

Finally, the 1986 Cheval Blanc, a vintage that I had not tasted for several years. This was not a renowned growing season for the Right Bank, but this Saint-Émilion bucks the trends to produce one of its most attractive wines. It has a gorgeous bouquet that you could lose yourself in with red berry fruit, quite tertiary at first, and scents of meat juices, fennel, juniper and wilted flowers. This is complex but also has the warmth I normally associate with the 1985s. The palate is medium-bodied with melted tannins, exquisite balance, light sous-bois and black truffle notes that infuse the dark berry fruit towards the persistent finish. It’s like a less extravagant version of the 1985. It’s probably at its peak now, though this bottle suggests it will drink well for many years.

It was a perfect start to my short break in Edinburgh. The standard of cooking at Aurora was exemplary, and with a six-course menu at £65.00 per person, you would be paying twice as much in London, perhaps more. You could probably fly up to Edinburgh and save money. The service was superb, the room manned by two young Spanish ladies whose beautiful accents became a vital ingredient. Naturally, such a small restaurant means that you have to book in advance, but it is well worth traveling across the ”border” to Edinburgh…sorry, Leith…to experience one of the finest restaurants that I’ve visited north of the border.

© 2023, Vinous. No portion of this article may be copied, shared or re-distributed without prior consent from Vinous. Doing so is not only a violation of our copyright, but also threatens the survival of independent wine criticism.