Sheep Heid Inn – Fascinating past, bland present
It’s a shame the Sheep Heid Inn lacks any charm, given its beautiful location and stunning history.
On paper, the Sheep Heid Inn should be an Edinburgh Pub Reviews favourite, as it ticks so many boxes.
It’s got some great tales to tell – as you’d expect from an establishment which claims to be Scotland’s oldest surviving public house. I’ve written before about how much I think a pub’s history can elevate it.
It’s in a great location in the beautiful Duddingston. Walk through the gates by the church, and you would never know you are in the middle of a capital city. I can walk from my flat, up to the summit of Arthur’s Seat (or round the back if I’m feeling lazy) and down the other side of Holyrood Park. I can while away an afternoon next to Duddingston Loch in Dr Neil’s Garden. To me, that’s as good as it gets – all without having the leave the city. It’s one of the best things about Edinburgh.
Were the Sheep’s Heid better, I would end this perfect day at this pub. It’s not even the beer (mediocre, expensive) or the food (expensive, mediocre) that’s the problem. It’s the abject lack of charm of the place. It feels a little corporate, a little generic. It could be anywhere. I suppose that’s what happens when you are owned by mega pubco Mitchells and Butlers. They’re the same ones who run the Nicholson’s, Harvester and All Bar One brands, among other big-name chains.
Perhaps I’m being harsh. You won’t hate it if you pop in here after a walk in Holyrood Park. It will do a perfectly serviceable job. I’ve had Sunday lunch in here before, and it’s fine. There’s normally a Stewart beer on. The garden’s been done to an OK standard. There’s an old-fashioned skittles alley which you can book if you want.
The rest of this review will outline some of the pub’s history, because honestly that’s the most interesting thing about this place.
The sign outside says it was established in 1360. There are two theories over where the name came from. One is that Duddingston became well known for a dish involving sheep’s head. This was repeated by Mrs Beeton in her Book of Household Management.1 She writes: “The sheep pastured on the neighbouring hills were slaughtered at the village, the carcasses were sent to town, but the heads were reserved for consumption by the visitors to Dudingston.”
More likely is the story that King James VI once gave the landlord an elaborate ram’s head snuff box as a gift. In fact, the pub’s situation between Holyrood Palace and Cragmillar Castle means it has had various royal visitors over the years. Mary, Queen of Scots is thought to have been there. It was probably patronised by Bonnie Prince Charlie, whose 2,500-strong Jacobite army was encamped in Duddingston for about a month in 1745. And Queen Elizabeth II dropped by in 2016 on the way back from the Musselburgh Racecourse.
The Sheep Heid has also hosted Rabbie Burns, Sir Walter Scott, Robert Louis Stevenson and Kelly Clarkson.
What a shame much of this pub’s backstory has been wiped from its walls in favour of some perfectly pleasant but generic furnishings. This has the potential to be one of the best pubs in the entire city. All the ingredients are there – they’ve just been covered up by an unforgivable blandness.
Where is it?
Where next?
Make a day of it. Do a walk around Holyrood Park, wander through the brilliant Dr Neil’s Garden (free entry, look out for the pheasant wandering around) and the churchyard by the loch.
Then head back round Holyrood Park and have a pint at The Royal Dick in Summerhall.
The chaser
A couple of bits of reading this week. First, Boak and Bailey on the history of nitrokeg in Britain. Think Guinness, or anything which uses the words “smooth”, “cream” or “flow”: John Smiths, Boddington’s, Caffrey’s etc. Basically, if the can has a widget in it, it’s probably a nitrokeg.
And secondly, some Brewdog news. It was reported this week that the company will no longer declare itself carbon negative. That’s according to an email from its new CEO to shareholders. It follows on from news in April that nearly 100,000 trees it had planted in the Cairngorms National Park – as part of an environmental campaign – had “withered and died.”
Step one: “Cut the head in half, remove the brains, wash them and put them into cold water, with a little salt.”