There is a particular kind of Edinburgh evening that does not get written about enough. It starts with a table on Broughton Street sometime around half past five. A drink while you look at the menu. Food that arrives at the right pace and leaves you satisfied but not heavy. A walk up the hill to the Playhouse in time to find your seats without rushing. Two hours of something that stays with you. And then, if the evening is going well, the walk back down again to somewhere war