Copyright scotsman
On a dreich autumn morning, all I can see stretching up along Hamilton Place are beanie-clad heads and anorak hoods. As I get closer to my destination, I also spot a smart-looking bouncer, who is giving out QR codes of the menu to those who are further back in the queue. It’s like this lot are waiting to get into a foodie version of Berlin club Berghain. But, if you know, you know. This is the zeitgeisty viral phenomenon that is the Lannan line and I hope I won’t be joining them, as I’m very allergic to standing. I only wanted a quick look at the much anticipated retail and events space Lannan Pantry, which opened at 10am on October 28. It’s the sister business to the original, with both owned by young superstar baker, Darcie Maher. You’ll find the newbie right next door to the corner spot mothership. It has its own entrance, and offers provisions and the ability to pick-up bakery pre-orders. That service isn’t quite up and running yet, but soon you’ll be able to buy online, then saunter past the crocodile and up to the pantry counter for collection. Keep your head down. I imagine there will be daggers fired from the crowds. As I approach, I see a gap in the line and, hoorah, there’s NO queue for the actual shop. I head in, under the gilded sign of a saucisson on a plate and a glass of wine. It is quite busy here, but manageable. There is no jostling and the customers are mainly reverent twentysomethings. The shop, which has Maher’s Quaker meets Farrow & Ball aesthetic and was inspired by the her travels in France, feels a bit like a chic craft gallery. There are pumpkins and eggs in the window, and a jug of dried flowers on the single table for two. The shop wares have been expertly edited. On the farmhouse table in the centre of the space there’s a gorgeous display of Natoora’s seasonal fruit and veg, with pears that have their stalks dipped in red wax to stop them ripening too fast. Among other things, there are dappled plums, chestnuts, and pinstriped aubergine, all in wicker baskets. I’d be scared to touch them in case I messed up the display. They make me want to get my canvas and paintbrush out, as they’re too bonnie to eat. The fridge also contains veg, with artichokes and carrots on the bottom deck, plus cheese, jars of their own beef ragu and tomato sauce, fresh pasta, and other delights. Lining the shop are butter yellow shelves of products, including Bare Bones hot chocolate, soaps-on-ropes, and some rather gorgeous and exclusive Claire Henry Ceramics squat coffee mugs, which are £25. They’ll be going on my Christmas wish list, as will the glasses, and scarlet-rimmed white enamelware. The other shoppers include a couple of girls beside me, who are toying with the idea of investing in one of the branded linen rusty-coloured aprons for £60. There are also totes, with their logo of a croissant munching lady. I think she looks a bit like a young Brian May. Yours for £30. I’d rather have the TBCo jaunty striped scarves with custom croissant embroidery. While I finger these, the shopper beside me is swithering over a single knife. Well, that’s a better souvenir than nowt. Apart from a few pieces, the prices are surprisingly okay. About the same as your average upmarket deli, or, in fact, the M&S Foodhall nearby on Raeburn Place, which recently sent me into an existential cost-of-living downward spiral. None of the prices at Lannan Pantry particularly horrify me. It’s not like anyone will be doing their weekly shop here. I toy with the idea of some Dodger jam, Tweedbank Honey, The Edinburgh Butter Company’s wares or Lannan’s own tea, with nutmeg and mandarin. There are bags of Orkney Beremeal flour, patatas fritas, crackers and pretty boxes of tinned fish. I find myself eyeing up the pie funnels, with effigies of various birds, rather than the usual mouth-agog blackbird. Those are Christmas presents for the foodie that has everything. There are brands I’ve seen in other places, but a few newbies too. As far as baked goods go, at the counter, they’ve got flour-dusted baguettes and white tin loaves. Apparently, there’s a wine cellar, and they have their in-house butchery and make their own sausages, with meat provided by Bowhouse in Fife and nearby George Bower. Behind the marble-topped counter today are various pink slabs, including ventricina, rolled pancetta, ham hock terrine and a white slab of guanciale. This is the savoury yin, to the bakery’s sugary yang. According to the lovely and trendily mulleted member of staff, who is standing at a marble-topped counter in front of a gorgeous Belfast sink, the pate-en-croute has been one of their bestsellers so far. They’ve also been doing well with the dips. I’m totally into the idea of a large slab of pate-en-croute, but it has no price on it, so I don’t want to be blindsided. Their own dips, though, had attracted me from the start. I was swithering over a pot of muhammara or the toum, and not only because they’re just £4 for a rather big pot. However, for the same price, I manage to hone in on one of the few sweet things - a tub of chocolate and coffee mousse. There’s easily enough for two. When I get it home, I take a large spoonful of this ultra creamy dessert, which is so thick and indulgent that I’m definitely going to have to eat it in increments. “Come back soon,” the mulleted server had said, as I’d left. Yeah, I could definitely be persuaded. Lannan Pantry, 33-35 Hamilton Place, Edinburgh, www.lannanbakery.com Read more: “I love the wonderful Edinburgh bakery Lannan but I won’t be getting in their queue again” Read more: “Edinburgh ‘world’s best’ bakery on getting bigger and their exciting new pastry” Read more: “The gorgeous East Lothian bakery that’s opening in time for autumn” Read more: “The best bakery in the Lothians is getting bigger” Read more: “The first Scottish bakery to specialise in these delectable French cakes opens its doors”
