This past week has been an especially food-centric one. Not one in which I cooked a heck of a lot, but we certainly ate well. You see, my younger sis was in town. Not that a visit from her would stop me from cooking – far from it – but as her visit was fleeting, we made the most of her time in my anything-but-boring adopted city. We were out every day, and I enjoyed seeing her appreciation of the beauty and excitement that is Edinburgh at this time of year. From the brightly painted storefronts in individual, boutiquey Stockbridge (Galeries Mirage is my favourite shop) to the grand Georgian splendour of George Street (the Dome is looking particularly stunning), we covered a fair bit on her short visit. Courtesy of Mr A, we even had afternoon tea and a massage – at the posh yet faintly spooky Hotel du Vin and award-winning Zen Lifestyle, respectively. Although the weather was rather chilly and windy, instead of complaining she just wore all of my warm clothes. At once. I even temporarily convinced her that my ‘Russian’ fake fur hat was fashionable. {Julie, I have deleted the photos. Promise}

Without a shadow of a doubt our best meal was lunch at my favourite restaurant, the Wee Restaurant. Tucked underneath the world-famous imposing steel-built Forth Railway Bridge this, as the name implies, tiny eatery in North Queensferry serves impeccably prepared and presented Scottish-sourced food. Even on an especially blustery and showery Thursday the restaurant was completely booked with well-dressed folk sighing and mmming their collective way through the short menu. While perusing it we had complimentary freshly baked bread with salted butter and homemade black olive tapenade. I think we might have been quite satisfied with the bread but I had plump Shetland mussels in a parmesan cream sauce with basil, bacon lardons and pinenuts to start, followed by pork collar on pomme puree (which is not just a fancy way of saying mashed potato), with shaved, marinated fennel and a gorgeous sauce whose name I can’t recall. The perfect cylinder of slow-cooked meat fell away to shreds with the merest push of the fork. Sublime no-knife food for cutlery-phobic Americans! Sis had the smoothest mushroom and tarragon soup I have ever tasted, flecked with blackest truffle oil – very woodsy and creamy, followed by the pork. For afters I choose the cheese board and Julie had the pear and frangipane tart – light buttery crust barely holding in the soft, yielding pears and almondy frangipane. The professional and personable manager/waiter Jim, and a glass each of Picpoul de Pinet helped make it a memorable meal. It was hard to leave. Even harder to contemplate ever eating again.

Although others prepared our main meals for much of the week, during her visit I did manage to make fish pie, Thanksgiving stuff (partially courtesy of M&S, but did my own sweet potato souffle, sprouts with chestnuts and pancetta, as well as my own cranberry relish and gravy), Miss R’s perfect scrambled eggs, minestrone (a fall version), homemade spelt bread (coming soon) and the titled recipe. This got the most raves from sis, and the family. Being a vaguely organised sort I made it in advance so that all we had to do was reheat it on arrival day. Good idea in theory but my family had to endure the intoxicating aroma as it cooked, and the warning screeches and pre-emptive hand slaps from me as it cooled. I hope you don’t have such trials if you make this recipe, but I feel it only fair to warn you.

Beef and Winter Vegetable Casserole with Orange and Star Anise