This place is owned by the sons – Daniel and Victor – of Spanish restaurant royalty, Ignacio Campos, aka the charismatic Iggy, who once had Edinburgh’s popular eateries Barioja and Iggs, which closed when he retired in 2015. Thus, we had to make a pilgrimage, especially as their newest venue seems like a perfect fit for Bruntsfield, which is as close as Edinburgh gets to La Rambla.
It’s very stylish inside, with window booths, pale wood and bare brick walls.
You’re slightly cheek to jowl with other diners, but they’ve made the best of a property that’s as narrow as a strip of streaky bacon.
The menu features sharing plates and tapas, along with a Spanish wine list.
He went for a fruity glass of Castillo de Perelada Brut Cava (£7.95) and, hoping that wishful thinking would make the dreich weather perk up, I chose Sunshine in a Glass (£10.50) – a double measure of Edinburgh Gin, tonic, grapefruit and a piece of charred rosemary that was tall enough to tickle my snout. It didn’t work. It was still raining.
We ordered three tapas to share, but ended up receiving four.
As the waiter said we could have it for free, we accepted the interloper graciously.
The bonus pollo al ajillo (£8.75), which came with three slices of olive-oil-drizzled sliced baguette, consisted of feathery soft chunks of chicken thigh in a bowl of broth-like and very garlicky white wine and rosemary sauce. It felt nurturing, like a Spanish twist on Jewish penicillin.
Wholesome. As was the set of four Minion-shaped ham croquetas (£7.95), with their pleasingly hot and smooth middles, all glued to the plate with a piquant and creamy pale pink sauce.
Not bad. The same goes for the chorizo a la sidra (£7.95) – about six Robusto-cigar-sized chorizos, with a rough texture. These were quite nondescript tasting and most of the flavour came from the transparent and bright red cider sauce, with red and yellow peppers in the mix.
The pulpo (£11.95) was slightly disappointing, as the pieces of sliced tentacle were rather chewy – not quite McCowan’s Highland Toffee level, but nearly. The plate also featured about six thin slices of potato, though the menu had said “boiled baby potatoes”. I don’t think a single thing becomes plural, just because you’ve sliced it up.
As well as tapas, Piggs also offers sharing plates for two, so we tried the mixed version (£40), though you can also go for just charcuterie, jamon Iberico or an IJ Mellis selection.
We couldn’t hear when the waiter told us exactly what was on our platter, since there was Spanish pop music playing near our earholes.
Still, it was a decent and generous enough selection.
There was a square of gummy blue cheese, and triangular pairs of Manchego, a pale sheep’s milk cheese and a buttery cheddar-like offering, as well as a blob of membrillo. We also had a few U-shaped breadsticks, and a stack of plain walnuts, and another of almonds. It might’ve been slightly more exciting if they’d been smoked, or clad in something other than their fibrous skins, but hey-ho. There were also two toothpicks that were strung with pickles and olives, and long jalapenos, so we could pretend we had Salvador Dali moustaches.
The meat selection included at least a dozen layered sheets of jamon, chorizo slices, lomo and salchichon.
We made a valiant effort to finish it all, but ended up packing about a third up to have in our future sandwiches. If only we hadn’t had the gratis chicken, we might have had room for their churros (£8.25). However, we did manage to carry home a slice of moussey-textured Basque cheesecake (£8.95).
The food here is pretty decent overall. It’s all in the genes.