I had a lively and bold lunch at this revived Edinburgh restaurant gem

There have been a few changes at this destination

As an Edinburger, I am guilty of describing some of our attractions as ‘just for tourists’.

I tend to file five-year-old The Johnnie Walker Experience under that category. I liked the building as a department store, and miss their glove department, so maybe resentment is still smouldering. It’s perhaps for that reason that I forget about the sixth floor 1820 Rooftop Bar. That’s a shame as it’s open to all, no tour required, and this contemporary space has epic pigeon’s eye views. On our visit, the last of the summer’s sun was streaming in the floor-to-ceiling windows, and we were like a pair of warty old turtles basking in the rays.

We were here to experience exciting changes, as they’ve commandeered the Scottish and male equivalent of Charlie’s Angels.

For example, the genius chef Scott Smith from Blank Plate Creative has redesigned their food menu. They’ve got Mr Lyan Studio - owned by a brilliant mixologist and London-based Edinburger, Ryan Chetiyawardana - to reimagine the cocktails, and local menswear designer Kestin Hare, who has an eponymous shop in Stockbridge, has zhuzhed up uniforms.

It wasn’t my first rodeo. I’ve been to this bar before and rated it, but they’ve really upped their game.

We had two pre-prandial drinks from a menu that was inspired by Walker’s world travels. I’ve had Chetiyawardana’s drinkies before, in his bar Dandelyan - now closed - in London, so I knew they were going to wow us. Not all of these contain the brand’s whisky, but ours did. The Rollerskate Sour (£15) featured Johnnie Walker Gold Label Reserve, purple ube and banana pisco, and calamansi, and was balmily smooth. My dining partner went for the equally refined Harbour Gimlet (£14) with Johnnie Walker Black Label 12-Year-Old, grocer's cordial, yellow pepper and lime zest.

The accompanying food menu offers Snacks, and bigger Plates, so you can mix and match.

Our first item to land was a yakitori-style plate of pork belly skewers (£9.50), with four shio-kojo-varnished cubes on sticks and a molasses-sweet brown sauce on the side.

Then, the snack of house pickles (£5.50), with beautifully sweetie-hued bits of carrot, daikon, pearly onions, cauliflower florets and other mildly zingy veg, plus a large scoop of creme fraiche, all served in a crystalline-looking blue bowl that looked like it came off the Frozen set. Let it go, let it go. But I don’t want to, Elsa!

The sea bream crudo (£14.50) was similarly fresh. There were tiny transparent cubes of cured fish, traffic light-hued dinky tomatoes, and a pickled tangerine gel. It had a spicy kick, though I’m not sure where it was coming from. We also tried the Brillat-Savarin (£9), because I cannot be trusted when there’s snacking cheese on the menu. They gave us a big oozy wedge of this uber creamy fromage, which we spread on four slices of fennel seedy and wafer thin sea salted lavosh, before adding a dot of honeycomb on top.

Once our plates, which had been scraped so enthusiastically that any patterns had been removed and ingested, had been removed, we had another round.

This time, the gorgeous barbecued baby squid (£17), with about seven bassinets of super soft seafood, a bold, salty and meaty mixture of charcuterie crumbs and XO sauce, plus a drizzle of kaffir limey olive oil.

We also had the courgette (£13) dish. It featured strips of charred yellow and green veg, and a super garlicky pulped sunflower seed ajo blanco, with a glug of peppery lovage oil over the top.

It’s obligatory to team chips (£5.50) with drinkies. The versions here are perfectly hot, crisp and salty - super freaky frites. And, they come with a little pot of chive-y green goddess dressing, so you can get vaguely delulu about this being a healthy treat.

We’re usually one-afternoon-cocktail-each people, but they’re so good here that we lingered for another round, over on the comfy low-slung seats by the bar.

As he seems to have developed a niche yen for cocktails with peppers in them, he ordered the ozone-y and savoury Black Fire Sazerac (£15) with Johnnie Walker Double Black, cognac, rejuvenated orange and scorched pepper. I thought my Flinted Godfather (£15.50) was an espresso, when it arrived in a cold ceramic cup. But, no, and this fortifying mix of Johnnie Walker 18-Year-Old, Amaretto and tonka bean, was a perfect dessert-replacement drink.

Well, it would’ve been, if I hadn’t also ordered the Guinness ice-cream sundae (£9.50), which featured toasty cookie-ish crumbs, as well as sponge, chocolate ganache, halved cherries, raisins, a bit of caramel, stout ice-cream and three dark ‘Flakes’ on top. If he’d had any space left, he says he’d have gone for the choux buns with meadowsweet cream and strawberries (£8).

Oh my goodness, I need to come here more often.

It is most definitely not just for tourists. Why should they have all the fun?