I had the dreamiest cakes at my new favourite Edinburgh cafe and bakery

This place is a wonderful spring find

I know spring officially started last month.

However, it’s been postponed for me. Things were still a bit too grey. Life has been complicated. The occasional happiness emotional jags that I usually get, when the new season starts, have been intermittent. It felt like winter was still dragging me down, like a waterlogged jumper.

I’d say my first day of the season was yesterday, when I visited a new Edinburgh cafe and bakery, Gorse.

The irony is that I had just been to the dentist, where I’d dodged any cavities, but she’d told me not to eat too much sugar. Ha, ha, HA. I mean, of course not. As if.

Anyway, instead of dashing back to the home office after my appointment, I did the Cinderella thing, and thought, no, I WILL go to the launch of that Northern Irish themed cafe.

I’ll stop being a fun sponge who snubs invitations. After all, it’s not raining for once, and I have legs.

I walked to this place, via Marchmont and its neat front gardens with juicily burgeoning magnolias. Apparently, they’re edible, and I wanted to take a bite. There was one house that had lipstick red tulips as big as plum tomatoes outside.

The birds were making such a commotion that I almost wanted to ask them to simmer down. It’s like they were tuning up for a gig. There was one blackbird in particular that was just showing off, like a jumped up soprano. Their little tonsils must be red raw.

Anyway, the joy and hormones were definitely infectious, as I started catching the spring bug too.

Colours were looking brighter, sounds were crisper. Optimism! What is this quaint conceit? Hope! No comprende.

I was even starting to walk slower, rather than my usual brisk cold weather death march.

Sometimes winter is like a vast ocean, and spring feels as if you’ve made it to the other bank, all greased up like an old-school long distance swimmer.. It’s a relief, and a realisation that you’re just another mammal who’s survived the lean months.

Anyway, I strolled down the Pleasance, looking out for the bright yellow exterior of this new venue, which I had been told was at number 207.

What a vision it was, in an otherwise slightly dreary and residential segment of this street. It’s like a pansy, pushing up from between the paving stones.

The event was at 11am, but I rocked up at 10.55am.

“I’m sorry, but we’re closed for our launch event”” says the owner Natalie, as I go inside.

“But I’m here for that!”, I protest, and they kindly let me in prematurely.

As I step over the pretty Victorian tiles on the doorstep, there’s an instant dopamine hit.

It’s chick yellow inside too, with shiny red tiles, and excellent coffee that’s served in cups that look like giant hard-boiled eggs.

The bakes are presented under glass in wooden haberdashery trays. What wonders. They include a dulse and Banagher Bold soda farl with Tirkeeran cheese and butter; a cinnamon cruffin, Guinness wheaten bread, a Danish that’s a tribute to the Northern Irish traybake called "fifteens", a brand with a Dr Seuss-esue name of NearyNogs’ chocolate and spelt cookies, as well as the more ubiquitous croissants and pain au chocolats.

The cakes are huge - is a single one supposed to serve two? I don’t ask, because if she says “yes” then I’ll feel obliged to share.

I tried the Tayto cheese and onion pastry, which is polka-dotted with onion seeds and has a feathery cheese hat and a little golden oozy yolk-like fromage heart.

Imagine basing such a sophisticated little treat on a packet of crisps. You know they’re an iconic snack when that can happen.

Anyway, there are more bags of these crisps on shelves, along with jams, hot chocolate, teas and other treasures.

There’s also a Guinness and gorse cake that catches my attention. I had to go for that. It’s one of my favourites, and I’m anaemic, so this is medicinal.

Unfortunately, after a quick Google, I have discovered that it’s a bit of a myth that this classic black drink is rich in iron, as a pint only has 3 per cent of your daily needs. Oh well, scratch the purported health benefits. At the very least, I’m sure there’s some vitamin C in the gorse, which is at its peak in April and May, and Natalie says this clump of yellow petals was picked from Arthur’s Seat fresh this morning.

You can see its volcanic peak from the window, above the brutalist building across the road, and it looks like the craggy top of the wheaten bread that’s in the bottom tray here.

I imagine her up there, with a wee basket, like Little Red Riding Hood. What magic.

Anyway, it turns out that gorse looks bonnie, and smells like coconut, but doesn’t taste of much. The rest of the cake, though, is rich and palate-coating, with a fresh blob of vanilla speckled icing on top.

I eat it all - dentist-defyingly, ha ha ha - and think that it’s wonderful to be here, on my very first day of spring.

As the world goes to Hell, I’m telling myself that it’s even more important to prioritise pleasure, as the Self Esteem song goes.

Enjoy those cakes, discover this new cafe, and remember that you’ve made it to the other side.