Lose those blues at Maison Bleue

Shoe-horned into the graceful slope of Victoria Street, Maison Bleue seems at first somewhat eclectic—almost foreboding—with its shocking blue exterior, but this bright façade belies a warm, cosy interior softened with candles and plump cushions. Trundling through a rainy Edinburgh there is relief because "at last, here is a place to rest." And rest you can, for at this maison there are squashy sofa arrangements alongside the dining room proper to which you can retreat; a welcome addition to the dining scene.

This comfortable casualness extends to both the dining room and the service. The set-up, small but not cramped, permits a calm collective intimacy perfect for a pre-theatre dinner, feeling neither rushed nor sluggish. The staff deftly manage the path between helpful and fussy; they are attentive and knowledgeable, helping to choose a pretty decent wine at the drop of a hat and knowing their menu inside out.

Though limited in number, the pre-theatre options cover a broad range of culinary traditions, from British devilled whitebait to wasabi salmon fishcakes, the cooking here is very good. The chargrilled chicken livers (£3.50) were lusciously soft and melting, delicately spiced with their chermoula marinade, and came with a little onion salad devoid, thankfully, of all hearty sharpness. Following the livers, the salmon (£6.90) was creamily smooth with a sweet-sharp lemon sauce, good mash, and a coriander crust that, regrettably for an addition with such potential, made few waves in either flavour or texture. To end, sticky toffee pudding was soft-bellied and smoky, just as one hoped it would be, if a little on the dry side. This is not to say that those at Maison Bleue have much more work to do. Set in such congenial surroundings, the early evening menu is perfect for a light pre-theatre supper.