Day 11 - Diagnosis

A very sore big toe

I spent an extremely uncomfortable night. My foot was giving me all kinds of grief. Pain, I say, in a major way. I mean probably not up there with childbirth but (and yes, I know all blokes are wimps) it was, in the words of the prophet, bloody painful. I did get some sleep, however, and on waking I gave in and called NHS24 which is a sort of on-line triage. Go and see a doctor, they said. So that's what I did.

I was fortunate to get into a surgery round the corner at Brunton Place (www.bruntonplacesurgery.scot.nhs.uk) and The G and I turned up at 1120. The G comes with me because I am inclined to forget important snippets of information. We were ushered in to see a dour Scottish doctor. The fact that she didn't smile led me to believe she was a no nonsense type of woman and that I would have a diagnosis in a jiffy. The prodding and squeezing of an inflamed big toe was of course all the interests of the diagnostic pursuit but it hurt, nonetheless, like buggery.

Queen Anne

"I think it's gout," she said. Well, there's a thing! "I am 99% certain," she said. 99% is good enough for me. So I have gout. Now I do not know a lot about gout except that Queen Anne (1665-1714, reigned from 1702) was a sufferer. 

She was the first Queen (or monarch) of Great Britain following the Acts of Union in 1707 - very topical as I write of course!! Queen Anne, as you may know, had a rough time of things in General. She had 19 pregnancies but not a single surviving child. She had had an arranged marriage with Prince George of Denmark who we assume was the cause of Anne's sufferings. But you cannot say that he was not a dutiful husband.

History's verdict in Anne has been mixed and frequently, in my view, unfair. She ruled in an age of male supremacy and she is often reported as being fat. Personally I think the male chauvinism of the time has coloured historians perceptions of her. Indeed, when I wanted to read a biography I could find only one (Queen Anne by Edward Gregg). The fact that she attended more cabinet meetings than any other monarch, in my opinion, weighs in her favour. I note that now there are books about Queen Anne including on recently published by Anne Somerset who is a brilliant historian (by that I mean she writes engagingly). She wrote a great book on Elizabeth I.

The Gout (James Gillray, 1799) depicts the pain of the artist's gout as a demon or dragon. He got it about right!!

At any rate we left the doc's with a prescription for something called Dicloflex which I am to take 3 times a day until the symptoms disappear - which I am hoping will not be long!! The UK's National Health Service is a wonderful instrument of the public good. Not a penny changed hand either for the consultation or the prescription!!

All this means we are confined to quarters for the rest of the day. This, however, has given The G to switch into research mode on Gout and Its Causes. It's caused by the build up of uric acid in the blood. This leads to the build up of sharp uric acid crystal deposits in the joints, commonly - you will be interested to note - in the big toe. And yes I am off the grog for a day or so while the  drugs do their thing!!

The G has determined that I am to make dietary changes to help with maintaining a gout-free lifestyle. I am dubious about this as I have had a gout-free lifestyle for 64 years, the current episode is an aberration nit part of a chronic ailment. Nonetheless when The G gets an idea it is generally put into action. I am told that this may mean limiting red meat and offal to 160gm a day (why 160 and not 150 or 170 I do not know), minimise the consumption of beer (that's easy as I don't often drink it) and take it easy on the peas, mushrooms and lentils. Harumph, is what I say.

Spiked rods of uric acid crystals from a synovial fluid sample photographed under a microscope with polarised light. Formation of uric acid crystals in the joints is associated with gout. Look at those spikes - no wonder it's bloody painful!!

We breakfasted at a bakery (www.themannahousebakery.co.uk) around the corner and very fine bakery it was. People were pouring in and out and, for me, the coffee was OK. The G is a far more discerning coffee drinker than I (she is in fact more discerning all round) so she may have been less satisfied.

The Manna House Bakery and Patissierie: the wheelie bins add a certain je ne sais pas quoi don't you think?

There seem to be hordes of children about which makes me suppose that they have been given the day off to vote. This is possible: the voting age is 16. Sounds daft now but when I was 16 I absolutely knew what was wrong with the world and how fit put it right!!

Vote early and vote often

We are booked at the Castle Terrace Restaurant (www.castleterracerestaurant.com) tonight. Parts of the meal, notably the matching wines, are not suitable for a person in my condition but everything else should be. And anyway being of the grog for a while is cleansing of mind and body and makes you feel self-righteous. I see from site the following description: "nestled underneath Edinburgh Castle, the new restaurant, awarded a Michelin Star in October 2011, offers a fantastic addition to the fine dining scene in Scotland, with a menu based on Chef Patron Dominic Jack’s innovative creations".

Is this nestled? I think so

 So a Michelin Star is not bad but the outstanding feature of this restaurant is that it is nestled. I don't know if you have noticed when searching for a pleasant B&B that many of them (I cannot say all though it seems that way" are "nestled". The G is under instruction only to book accommodation that is nestled. Nestlement is the pre-eminent characteristic of a good place. 

A Michelin Star 
(one star: "A very good restaurant in its category" ("Une très bonne table dans sa catégorie")
two stars: "Excellent cooking, worth a detour" ("Table excellente, mérite un détour")
three stars: "Exceptional cuisine, worth a special journey" ("Une des meilleures tables, vaut le voyage"))

Those of you who detected a certain dubiety about the nestlement factor of the Castle Terrace Restaurant will be surprised to learn that, with certain parameters, it is nestled. It's in the middle and at the bottom of a large set of buildings and in site of the castle (at least I think it's the castle!).

The view from the restaurant door. A clever photographer would have airbrushed out the street sign. But I believe in reality. Some council planner long ago decided that a street sign would add rather than detract from the view

We had an excellent dinner. The restaurant itself is peculiar. It is, I suppose fine dining, but diners were garbed in costumes of varying formality - from lounge suits to jeans. This was just as well as in my current condition I cannot get any shoes on to my feet other than my beach shoes (which fortunately I have because of the Dubai stop-off). Concerned readers will be pleased to note, however, that after a couple of the Diplodocus tablets things are looking up down there.

The restaurant is wood panelled and I would have to say unexciting in decor but strangely British, or perhaps I should say Scottish. There's an air "don't be too adventurous or you will scare the horses". I am pleased to note that the waiters wore black trousers, grey waistcoats and black shirts and the waitresses wore mini tartan kilts (that is, not black trousers). I am very traditional in relation to the dress of waitresses. Their dress should, as a good speech) be long enough to cover the subject but short enough to be interesting. (The less discerning reader should note I am a bit tongue in cheek here!).

But, to the food!!  And what of it? I must say - and The G was quick to remark - that deft hands had been at work in the kitchen. 

Canapés from left to right: salt cod barbajuan (whatever that is), a caper and cumin burger (this is a burger on a small scale: about 1.5 cm diameter), and  Caesar salad (this had a liquid centre and was really good)

At this point came the appetiser which I failed to capture on celluloid - or any other medium apart from my memory. This was a tomato gazpacho.

The bread came wrapped in something that like it had been nicked from the head of a passing child. Tasted good though - very crusty. The tartan is the same as that of the waitresses' skirts

Tartare of Shetland salmon - served with wasabi ice-cream, soy sauce jelly and caper mousse. The salmon was finished with puffed rice and black sesame seeds

A scallop from Orkney - with a beautiful caramelised onion tartlet, little onion rings, water cress and a balsamic sauce. The best - I say again the best - scallop I have ever eaten and cooked to perfection

A risotto of organic spelt - I am sorry you can't see this, it looked so good I ate it immediately. It came with crispy ox tongue and a confit of veal heart

Hake - from the North Sea. This was served with an "Asian style" broth that they poured over it together with a medley of miniature vegetables including radish, beans, asparagus, peas, corn and carrots

Grouse - served in a wall of watercress mousse with potato that looks like a slice of holey cheese. The whole ensemble rested on a bed of Scottish mushrooms. I didn't know the Scots had mushrooms - these were sort of orangey specimens but tasty nonetheless (in fact, they were chantrelles). On the left of the picture is a cube of deep-fried bread sauce and on the right three slices of a mini chorizo

A twelve-layered pear and pannacotta confection was very well done 

Petit fours - a miniature carrot cake identified by the carrots on the top, an amazing chocolate and orange marmalade truffle and a pistachio macaron which would rival the great Zumbo's

The menu

Keen readers will be interested in the wines so here they are:

• (to start) a fine rose French champagne (we failed to take a note of what it was)
• (with the amuse bouche) Phillipponnat, Réserve Rosée Champagne, France
• (with the Salmon) Guerrouane, Les Trois Domaines, Méknes, Morrocco
• (with the Scallop) Rias Baixas, Bodegas Terras Gauda, O Rosal, Spain, 2013 ... this was a very nicely structured white wine, a blend of three varieties none of which we had heard of
• (with the Spelt) Marcillac, Domaine du Cros, South West France, 2013
• (with the Hake) Petit Manseng, Domaine Cabidos, VDP des Pyrénées-Atlantiques, South West France, 2013,
• (with the Grouse) Bierzo, Bodega Pittacum, Valdeorras, Spain, 2013 ... we did not like this wine at all. It was nicely coloured and viscous on the glass but a unpleasant nose and a short bitter (not tanniny but bitter) finish
• (with the desert) Tokaji Late Harvest, Disznoko Estate, Tokaji, Hungary, 2012

And so, after a cab ride home, to bed.

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