Now there are two types of female that I know. There are the ladies who lunch, and the women who like to have lunch. I am quite definitely the latter.
Not, you understand, that I have anything against the former – without them so many events in this city wouldn’t happen. There would be no charity lunches and that poor Grant Stott would be left to wander the streets each afternoon looking for a receptacle from which he could draw raffle tickets.
It is just that I have to earn money; to be quite honest, I have tried not working very much, and I was as bored as a bikini salesgirl in the Antarctic.
But back to lunch, which I tend to eat each day, but at least once a month I meet up with two or three friends who I met when my eldest daughter went to primary school.
Now lunch suits us just fine. In the past few years, the competition between restaurants is such that it’s possible to have an extremely lovely meal for less than a return tram ticket to the airport. And quite frankly none of us have the stamina we had when we met 15 years ago for a night out on the tiles.
So what better way to keep in touch than stuffing our faces without having to empty our wallets.
Over the past few years we’ve tried most of the restaurants in the West End and George Street – Indigo Yard, L’Escargot Blanc, Le di Vin, Café Andaluz and Gusto. Now that I have become a bit of a lunch expert I can reveal that my new mid-day treat is a trip to Mark Greenaway.
At £16.50 for two courses, each one of which is faultless and delicious, it’s where I go when I want to impress someone with what Edinburgh has to offer.
I can’t believe that whoever decides on Michelin stars hasn’t been in as well, which is a shame.
Because when Mr Greenaway, above, does have that sort of accolade foisted upon him I’m sure his prices will shoot up and he’ll be off my lunchtime menu.