Restaurant

Gaby Soutar visits Chizuru Tei, Edinburgh

Where? 278 Morrison Street, Edinburgh (0131-228 1688)

The origins of cheesecake date back to ancient Greece, where, apparently, it was served to athletes at the first Olympic games in 776 BC.

Although fit types may have moved on to protein shakes, kale, turmeric and whatnot, the contemporary unhealthy still love a slice of this dessert.

To paraphrase Samuel Johnson, if you’re tired of cheesecake, you’re tired of life. Except if you live in Edinburgh’s Haymarket area.

I cycle to work and usually sit, inhaling traffic fumes for aeons, at the junction outside 278 Morrison Street. I watched Mallow Valley Cheesecake Factory open, with its cumulustopped gateaux, each at least eight inches high, one of which is made with…ooooh…marshmallows whipped into the mascarpone, to make it extra fluffy.

Then I watched it close. Not for Haymarket-ers, it seems. Heathens and non-olympians.

Now it’s been replaced by this eatery. They may have more luck, since another Japanese restaurant, Sushiya, has survived nearby, on Dalry Road, for 12 years.

Although I wasn’t that happy about going near my commuting route on a non-school day, we made it to Chizuru Tei. I had my sister in tow, which is always fatal when it comes to over-ordering.

First up was the set of five chicken gyoza (£3.90) – very good, thanks to an oniony dense filling, with bouncy pan-fried dumpling skins, each neatly crimped and sealed at the edges, like a crab’s carapace.

We’d also asked for kataifi black cod (£5.50), but got the prawn version. Anyway, nice enough, with five bits of seafood bundled snugly into their Weetabix-like pastry cocoons. Crunchy and hot, with a thick mayo on the side.

Junior had managed to order her ultimate favourites – salt and pepper squid (£3.90) and soft shell crab tempura (£6.50) – without me noticing. She might have passed the waitress a note, or maybe sent some kind of psychic message directly to the chef. Bah, foiled.

Anyway, she enjoyed the soft squid hoops, but thought they were slightly underseasoned, while, when it came to the crab, the ratio of batter to meat was a bit high for the waif-like crustacean inside.

Both of us were keen on the tempura batter flake rolls (£7.50), which had a centre of tempura prawn, avocado and cucumber. Their drift of crispy topping was extra naughty with added dressing of tobiko and a sweet yellow sauce. Hubba hubba.

We shared a bowlful of their dynamite fried noodles (£7.50), with a smoky charred heat that crept up, then kicked you in the head like a jujutsu master. It also featured lots of white fish chunks, prawns, bean sprouts and carrots, with deep fried noodles on the top to contrast against their slippery umami equivalents.

The sushi platter (£8.90) looked very pretty, in a floral painted wooden bowl, with spiked plumes of bamboo leaf poking out. It featured a pleasant salmon nigiri and there were sea bass, surf clam, octopus and ebi versions, as well as a tuna variety with meat that had an unusually slack and mottled texture, rather than the smooth grain I’m familiar with. Maybe that’s a thing, but we avoided it. Anyway, tucked alongside were four California rolls. Tasty beasts, packed with lots of crab and cucumber.

We were kind of unexcited by the sweet and sesame-seed sprinkled sliced beef goma (£8.90), which came with rice and stir fried veg, though that might be because our appetites were jaded after maximum hoggery. Because the waitress recommended them, we also went for some sesame mochi, though I couldn’t see them on the menu and they didn’t charge us for them. Perhaps they were a gift to their most sumo of overeating customers.

Anyway, these were fine, though a bit solid, with a topping of sesame seeds that made them look like pebble-dashed pangolins and a vanilla ice-cream middle.

I think I would’ve preferred a slice of cheesecake, though you won’t find that round these parts. NIMBYS.

Let’s just hope this sushi place survives for longer. I will be watching from my saddle.