Why am I talking about Harry Potter? Well! It just so happens that the cafe in which J.K. Rowling began writing the series is located in Edinburgh. It's called the Elephant House Cafe, and it's not more than a five minute walk from where Phil and I live. A few of my friends back in the States insisted earnestly that I pay it a visit, gushing about how cute it is.
I had to take a picture of the adorable little elephant-with-a-teacup sign.
The first thing I noticed upon entering was that the place was packed! A very short waitress in an even shorter mini skirt greeted Phil and me, and told us that the only seating available was at a shared table. No problem! The warm lighting and cozy atmosphere made sharing a table with other patrons seem like a charming idea. I'm a rather friendly person. I smile at strangers, and make faces at babies on public transport.
Anwhom, our little waitress led Phil and me to a four-person table next to the far wall. The Elephant House is split into two sections: the bakery/cafe area and the restaurant area. There's no wall or formal separation of the two areas. The main reason for the differentiation is to allow people who only want to pop in for a quick cuppa to come and go quickly.
The far wall is lined with medium-sized windows over a decently wide ledge. On top of the ledge, one can find stacks of newspapers, magazines (including Foodie), some potted plants, and other bits and bobs. The view from the far wall windows is beautiful. But, then again, this is Edinburgh.
A jolly little elephant fetish guarded a stack of Foodie Magazine and a couple of plants by our window.
Phil and I hadn't really planned on having much to eat, but we couldn't really resist once we saw the menu. To drink, I ordered a glass of the house red. Phil ordered one of their mad alcoholic concoctions. It involved banana syrup and chocolate, and I think it could put a person of more fragile a disposition into a diabetic coma. Wine is the only alcohol that I drink, so I can't tell you how it tasted. I could smell it from where I was sitting though, and it smelled like insanity.
Weebling happily over the latest issue of Foodie Magazine while waiting for food to arrive.
Phil did a Sudoku in pen while I weebled.
Food! Phil ordered a vegetable pie with mash and gravy. I ordered a camembert and portobello mushroom burger. It came with corn chips, for some reason. I hadn't seen corn chips since I left California. Strange days.
What? Of course I ordered a cupcake. It was the last one that the bakery had for the day, it was vanilla, and about the size of my face. No complaints, obviously.
What with the corn chips and the multi-coloured sugar sprinkles on top of my face-sized cupcake, I was starting to relive memories of being 5 years old at a friend's birthday party. Fortunately, that manic detour down memory lane ended abruptly once I tucked into the mushroom burger. Ladies and gents, I don't think I've ever had such an overwhelming cheese experience (cheesperience?) before in my life. Were I any less of a crazy lover of cheese, it would have probably knocked down the quality of the meal. However, the reality is that I could happily live off of bread and cheese, so I had no complaints. The mania of the 5 year old's birthday party flashback was replaced by the mania of, well, pretty much an entire wheel of camembert. You can see in the picture above that I'm not exaggerating.
I definitely want to give the Elephant House another go during a weekday, during cafe hours rather than dinner hours. The food was comforting, and the restaurant would be a perfect place to plant oneself for a rainy afternoon to read and people-watch. The only thing that put me off a wee bit was some Harry Potter merch in the front, by the bakery. It's relevant, to be sure, and the fact that the restaurant is trying to capitalise off of the stories being born there wasn't overwhelming, but I felt like it took away from the funky appeal just a tiny bit. No biggie, but worth mentioning.
Good eats.
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