Paradise Palms: Old Haunt, New Flavour
By Emma Kate Miller
Head to Paradise Palms in Edinburgh for a vegan treat of tacos and drinks
A familiar room with a very different menu. Still rough round the edges, still drawing the same crowd, but the food has genuinely stepped up.
Back in the nineties I spent an inordinate amount of time in Negociants. I was a Napier girl, living on the southside, working on North Bridge, but often drawn to the art school crowd. Long Island Iced Teas, Midori Sours, spiced rum with fresh orange, it felt like a proper night out before heading to La Belle Angele. Returning to the same site, now home to Paradise Palms, came with some hesitation. Nostalgia, curiosity, and a long overdue lunch with one of my favourites won out.
The name has changed and the kitchen has gone fully plant based, but the spirit remains. The room is still scrappy, still more bar than restaurant, and all the better for it. It does not try to be something it is not. You either get it or you do not.
There is comfort in that continuity. The crowd feels familiar too, younger, still orbiting that student energy. For some, that is the draw. For others, it will dictate how often they come back.
Service is well judged. Jess looked after us with ease, warm, switched on, happy to guide without hovering. We handed over control and let the kitchen take the lead.
The menu, via Antojitos Cantina, is entirely vegan but led by flavour, not virtue. It makes sharing effortless, no second guessing, no awkward omissions. I am pescatarian, so I appreciated that. My date, a committed meat eater, was less convinced at the outset. So we went all in: Soya Carnitas, Quesa Birria, Jalapeño Rellenos, Padrón Peppers, Smashed Potatoes, Loaded Nachos, and a bowl of guacamole that deserves its own mention.
The tacos are generous and assured. The Soya Carnitas arrive sticky with sweet heat, properly moreish, the kind of dish that lingers days later. The Quesa Birria is rich and indulgent, with juicy “marbles” vegan steak folded into molten queso and served with a deep chipotle consommé for dipping. It won my date over completely. The Jalapeño Rellenos bring excellent crunch from the beer batter and a slow, satisfying heat.
Sides do more than fill space. The Smashed Potatoes are crisp and well spiced, with cayenne, chimichurri and lime crema. The Padrón Peppers add freshness, blistered and lifted with chipotle butter and lime salt. The Loaded Nachos are generous, if lacking that full indulgent cheese pull, but they work brilliantly as a sharing plate. The guacamole is the standout, bright and lime forward, topped with queso fresco and pomegranate. Order it with chips and a drink and you would leave happy.
This is unfussy, filling food that does not feel like a compromise. Messy in the right way, designed for sharing, and ideal for a long catch up. If you have teenagers, bring them. They will love it.
Drinks hold their own. Cocktails and mocktails are strong, my alcohol free spicy margarita still delivered. The wine list is less considered, Zinfandel rosé feels dated in 2026, but it is hardly the reason you are here.
You leave full, and more importantly, satisfied.
Paradise Palms is not polished and does not need to be. It trades on familiarity and nostalgia, now backed by food that genuinely delivers. A former student staple that has grown up just enough, without losing its edge.