The Scottish restaurant, with ex Noma chef at the helm, that's a hidden gem in student-ville

It’s a harsh realisation that, compared to that lot, my husband and I barely have one brain cell between us. And even that is slowly fading, like a dying star.

Still, I’ll make an exception for Bonnar’s restaurant at four-star hotel The Scott, both of which are managed by The University of Edinburgh Hospitality Collection.

On our visit, this venue was full of, presumably, academics, who were making high-brow conversation. There were a couple of very posh diners, too, one of whom described another of the Capital’s university-centric areas as, ‘George Skwaaa’. Anyway, I felt as if I’d stumbled across their secret, so you have to admit that I can’t be THAT dim.

This hidden Southside gem is on the Pollock Halls campus, which is beside Holyrood Park and walled off from busy Dalkeith Road.

Thus, I imagine that there’s barely any passing trade.

While Deliveroo drivers drop pizza off for students nearby, this restaurant is serving food cooked by Pier Berretta, who has worked in Paris and had a spell at Noma.

It’s a real curiosity, especially as the eating space, aka the Drawing Room in this 18th-century building, which was designed by architect Thomas Bonnar, is such a chocolate box. It’s reminiscent of The Pompadour at Princes Street hotel, The Caledonian, in that it’s lined with frescoes. In this case, there are cheeky and chubby putti with wildflowers, and trompe l’oeil cameos.

Next door, there’s the Velvet Lounge, where they serve drinks, including classic cocktails. Here, we had pre-prandial glasses of champers, and appreciated that they served them in proper coupe glasses - you know, the ones that are supposed to be modelled on Marie Antoinette’s breasts. Sadly, for fizz fans like me, she wasn’t endowed with anything schooner-sized.

While the space is classical, the menu is contemporary.

We kicked off with the bread and butter selection (£5.50) since it wasn’t likely that there would be a lot of carbs coming our way, and received some big slabs of sourdough with a quenelle of gorgeous fermented chilli butter and another of cultured butter.

My other half started with a protein fix of beef tartare (£16). The server had described this as a lighter version of the classic French dish. And, indeed, it was, thanks to piquant little pops of pickled mustard seed and wild garlic in the buttery soft beef, which had a smoked egg yolk on top.

I’d gone for their take on shellfish chowder (£18). It was a huge portion of probably the least chowder-y chowder I’ve had, but it was beautiful nonetheless. There was a lecture-theatre’s-worth of petite mussels and clams - maybe 20, at least - and stacks of chunky and citrussy kimchi-ish fermented cabbage, plus a little jug of smoked butter sauce. Just enough to anoint every ingredient.

The main courses were equally seductive.

My other half was in raptures over the coley (£26). It was a beautiful piece of fish, which had been confited in veal fat, and was topped by petals of kohlrabi. The lush champagne sauce was flavoured with loveage, and featured tapioca pearls - hmm, bubble tea, I thought, when the server told us about that ingredient. However, these pops of flavour were smaller and more subtle, and I appreciated the playful concept.

The lamb (£28) was a more traditional offering, with shredded shoulder and very pink pieces of sous vide saddle, plus a smooth carrot puree and some slivers of confit onion on the side. It was sloshed with a peppercorn sauce, which seems quite retro, and this was a bruiser, with a throat-tickling punch.

For pudding, I went for the chocolate (£9) option, and it was the loveliest dessert I’ve had in ages.

There were lots of interesting textures, and flavours, of honey and chocolate, in dinky and dense (just like me) cremeux scoops, plus oaty crumbs and sails of cocoa-y tuiles.

The pear (£9) option was good, too, with thin but still crisp slices of honeyed fruit, meringue shards and a buttermilk sabayon that tasted a bit like meadowsweet, with a dusting of powdered fennel seeds on top.

This was a cracking meal that was fine dining-ish, but also quite raw and elemental in parts.

I don’t know if anything that I ate could qualify as much needed brain food, but I feel like I’ve got one up on those insufferable smartypants now I’ve discovered their secret.

Bonnar’s at The Scott, 18 Holyrood Park Road, Edinburgh (0131-651 2011, www.bonnars.co.uk)