Gaby Soutar visits Beach Hut, North Berwick

Where?

15 High Street, North Berwick (note: no phone number or website)

Have you ever been stared at by a hungry springer spaniel? If you’re weak from low blood sugar, their rust-coloured eyes waterboard your foodie soul and chip away at your defences. It’s intense.

This happened when we were at this summer pop-up, open Wednesday to Sunday, noon until late.

In North Berwick, it’s owned by the people behind restaurant The Herringbone, which is situated on the same street, and has another branch in Edinburgh.

They’ve commandeered a warren – the former premises of The County Inn – with a huge beer garden that features cable reels doubling as tables, a giant deckchair and an alfresco undercover area, as well as a few indoor dining spaces. In a temporary manner, they’ve pasted their cheerful striped seaside branding on top of an old fashioned pub, like mutton dressed as lamb. We sat at a bench by the bar inside, since it was pouring down outside.

It is family, and, of course, dogfriendly.

I blame Floppy Ears for my overordering. His hunger was contagious, and I could tell he hoped that something would drop onto the floor.

First, though, we sampled the booze, since it’s a big thing here, especially cocktails, alcoholic slushies and spritzers.

We enjoyed our Don’s Margarita (£7, with Don Julio Reposado Tequila, Cointreau and lime) and a refreshingly light Summer Dayze spritz (£8, with Ketel One Botanical Grapefruit and Rose, briottet pamplemousse and soda). Happy timze.

All the food came in one bundle, delivered in compostable boxes from a cool bag, which the waitress unpacked.

We immediately gravitated to the pot of cockle popcorn (£4). Topped with a squeeze of lemon, you could eat fistfuls of these soft-centred battered bubbles of seafood. We did. Tufty Head made a jealous bleating sound. Who knew that dogs could bleat?

Our second favourite thing was the sriracha breaded coconut prawns (£7.50) – a clutch of beasts in a light

coconutty crumb, slathered in daubs of spicy pink mayo, like the guano on Bass Rock, plus there were chilli rings and chopped iceberg.

They don’t mess around with the food here, it’s shot-to-the-heart bumper flavour, stuff that sea air and hangovers give you a yen for.

The fried bubble-skinned parcels of kimchi gyoza (£5) were equally hot and spicy, with centres of chilliinjected cabbage, chopped spring onions and a slosh of treacly sweet dipping sauce. We also had the equally decent dry rubbed roasted chicken wings (£7) – half a dozen buff and juicy bits of flapping gear in a salty paprika-y marinade, with a pot of thick and glossy aioli on the side.

Sadly, all the easily portable finger food meant we neglected our most expensive purchase – the pork belly Beach Bun (£8.50). This bao had its two doughy pads acting more like bookends to wedges of hoisin-ish anointed meat, grated carrot, pickled cucumber and spring onion.

Oh, and mention must be made to their top notch chips (£3), which were unusually thin and fluffy wedges – each almost origami boat-shaped and very addictive when dipped in their aioli (though you can also have them with garlic oil or sriracha mayo).

There’s not a lot pudding-wise. Choose from a Prosecco pop (£3.95), tub of S. Luca ice cream (£2.50), a Coke float (£4) or a Steampunk coffee (£2). I’m not sure if the last one even counts as a dessert, unless you add 10 sugars.

We bailed, said cheerio to the dog, who had deflated onto the floor, and paid a visit to Alandas Gelateria (1 Quality Street, www.alandas.co.uk) along the road.

I had a pretty good magnoliacoloured peanut ice-cream (£2.90), and my other half went for a slick Belgian chocolate (£2.90). We took them down to the beach in the rain, looking out for Hungry Boy amongst all the other sandy and salty hounds.

It’d be nice to see him again, though we held onto our cones, just in case springer spaniels hold grudges. n