Quietly addictive

MY LAST visit to Nicolsons was after a particularly harrowing two hours at The Festival Theatre in the company of 2000 toddlers and the Singing Kettle. Then, the brash yellow and bright blue, sunglasses- required-on-a-sunny-day colour scheme did little to soothe my frazzled nerve. Neither, I have to add, did the food.

Since that headachey encounter Nicolsons has expanded to offer a coffee shop downstairs, leaving the original upstairs operation free to concentrate on developing both the food and a more relaxed am- bience. So it seemed only fair to return, this time without the echo of Does Your Chewing Gum Lose Its Flavour On the Bedpost Overnight still ringing in my ears.

The whole atmosphere is radically different. Deep reds, olive greens and creams give an almost serene air to the place. The upholstery indicates which tables are smoking and which are not: green chairs are for the saintly abstainers, the red ones for the puffers. At Thursday lunch-time we were seated beside a large, sparklingly clean art deco window which gave an excellent view of the Bridges and the fascinating mix of people wandering along below. The menus arrived clipped on a long thin perspex base. The wine list, sweets and even coffee selections, were also presented on a variety of different sized strips of perspex. This made things very clear and easy to see. We ordered a glass each of the house La Palma, a Chilean chardonnay (#2.75) which arrived promptly, perfectly chilled and in two deliciously big glasses. Four generous slices of olive bread came along too, with three ramekins of butter, olive oil and mush-room and tomato dip. We tried all permutations - they were all delicious. The grilled haluomi cheese with oven-roast tomatoes, aubergine and spinach, #3.50, arrived on a square, glazed white plate. The contrasting colours of the dish, the glossy green baby spinach leaves, the rich red tomatoes and the cheese were vibrant and appetising. Happily the aubergine, which can act like a sponge to all things oily and nasty, was in good size chunks, firm and not in the least bit greasy. Taking a little bit of each ingredient on the fork was quite a balancing act but worth potential humiliation because the combination of flavours was a delight. Fiona's endives, avocado and watercress with crisp pancetta and mustard mayo (#2.95) was excellent too, with all the ingredients present and correct. The generous portion, with the grainy dressing, lulled her in to a "hey-summer-is-a-coming-and-I-do-like-a salad" frame of mind. We should have known better, as the mere mention of summer was the cue for hail stones the size of ping pong balls to start bouncing off the pavement outside. As we marvelled at the Scottish weather our main courses arrived. My roast fillet of cod with baby potatoes, fennel and basil was #6.50, a very reasonable price for the great chunk of fresh fish with seared skin which sat on top of a mound of fennel, lovely wee potatoes and fresh basil. My pal's sesame-crusted chicken with honey mus-tard dressing and steamed pak choi (#7.50) was the most moist and tender chicken possible, rolled generously in sesame seeds which were nutty and tasty in their own right. The pak choi was a good foil for the chicken. It also added that fresh green taste which rounded the dish off and again led our conversation along the "hey I love vegetables why don't I eat them constantly" line. Full, but greedy, we chose chocolate banana pie with chocolate puddles, (#4.50) which was vast and obviously freshly-made. Big ripe chunks of banana were held in place by great dollops of chocolately pud and the semi-legendary chocolate puddles. These turned out to be a pool each of melted white and milk chocolate. We are women. This is what makes us happy. The lime tart, #4.25, was an individual mouth-watering little number. The pastry was hatefully light, the filling refreshingly tart with an almost lemon curd-like consistency. It was accompanied by passion fruit ice-cream which was palate cleansing yet sweet. A real passion fruit split in two garnished the dish, with all of its exotic seeds spilling onto the plate. We needed coffee, #1.30, to kick-start us for the afternoon. It arrived with homemade chocolates, complete with the restaurant's N monogram, cupped in the teaspoon. This confirmed my suspicions. I am a chocoholic, but they do say admitting it is the first step to recovery. For my thighs' sake, lets hope so. Alison Craig is a radio and television broadcaster Nicolsons Address: 6a Nicholson Street, Edinburgh Telephone: 0131 557 4567 Opening hours: Monday-Thursday 12noon-3pm, 5-11pm; Fri 12noon-3pm 5pm-12midnight; Saturday12noon-12midnight; Sunday 12noon-11pm Credit cards: Everything but Diners. Disabled Access: Yes. Restaurant is on first floor, with a wheelchair lift Clear smoking and non smoking areas. Total Bill : #39.30

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