Burger’n’blue

My mum and dad were through visiting tonight and decided we were going to go out for a bite. They’re not the most adventurous when it comes to different dishes; while I love Indian, Italian, Thai, Chinese etc they don’t care for them. All the more puzzling given how amazing a cook (and baker – mmm, those cakes and shortbreads…) my mum is and the different things she’s made for me over the years. So I always have to try and balance going somewhere where they will be okay with the food but I will still enjoy it too. Recently I read a review of a place on the Royal Mile, near the Fringe office, called Wannaburger, which sounded like somewhere I wanted to check out.

I passed it while taking pictures of the Fringe performers on the Mile during the Festival in August, but of course then it was incredibly busy as everything on the Royal Mile is at that time of year. With the Festival over and my folks through tonight it seemed like an opportune time to try it and we had a pleasant meander down the Mile on a late summer evening. A colleague at the Planet had mentioned he’d been in there several times and loved it, so I was even more eager to check it out – boy was it worth the wait!

There are three basic burgers – a big ass Scotch beef, a whole free range chicken breast and for we veggies a home-made beanburger. But that’s just the base – there’s a great range of combos you can have and a whole raft of them are vegetarian friendly. Mum had the basic chicken, dad the beef while I went for the beanburger with blue cheese and salad; they were both delighted with their burgers, both damned tasty and huge. I loved the beanburger with the blue cheese half-melted over the top of it with the salad, it gave the whole thing some bite and we had a couple of bowls of big, chunky fries (not those stupid little lukewarm skinny fries) between us. I’d heard that the shakes were damned good and indeed the chocolate milk shake utterly rocked; ice cream and real choccy pieces, just the right side of thickness so that you have to work to get it up through the straws but not too thick that you can’t quite manage.

The desserts looked pretty good but even I couldn’t fit anything else in, it was a damned good plateful and between the food and the really friendly service we left full and happy for a walk back past evening tourists and folks heading out on ghost walk tours. I’ll certainly be going back there for more (it is temptingly near work). Good meal and a nice night with my mum and dad; the simple pleasures are often the best, aren’t they? On the way back to my place we past where Mr Boni’s wonderful ice cream parlour once stood; my mum and dad used to take me there from time to time when they were through visiting. One former colleague in my previous job hearing this commented that he thought it was a bit sad that a bloke in his 30s was being taken for ice cream sundaes by his mum and dad. Why? What the hell is wrong with that? I just told him straight, you just wish you could go for that sort of treat and enjoy it. Miserable bugger. Well, I can and I do! Damned right I do.