At the mosque

The quaker sent us.

That was four years ago when Son and I were looking round Edinburgh, and were in need – although not desperately – of lunch. The quaker turned up. I’m sure he has a name, but for me he always goes under that label. He recommended the mosque round the corner from the university building we met in. Cheap and good.

We went. And it was. You eat at long tables (or take away) in the back yard of the local mosque, where there is a good selection of both veggie and meat ‘curries’, which you eat off paper plates with a plastic spoon.

I’d not been back since, because I’m rarely there, but Son has. And before the fringe event with Lara on Friday night, we popped across the road and found it was open until eight, so went in for some pre-fringe dinner. They even had falafels for Daughter, who is not keen on vegetables.

And it’s quick. Always good when you haven’t got all day.


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