Aghtamar Lake Van Monastery in Exile was an Armenian eatery notorious for its random opening times and extremely eccentric owner.
Whenever you drive along Abbeyhill at the foot of the Royal Mile, you pass a very unusual single storey sandstone building with cyrillic lettering above the doorway. But have you ever stopped to wonder what it is – or what it used to be?
Well, wonder no more, because we’ve looked into its history, and it was way weirder, more entertaining and unusual than we could ever have imagined. Think a real life Fawlty Towers, but with an Armenian twist. But let’s start at the very beginning.
55 Abbeyhill was built in 1896 as a police station in a unique style, with castle-like elements, corner turrets and animal figure gargoyles. It was used as a police station until at least 1932, as there are records of officers being based there at that time.
So far, so normal. But after the police service moved out of the property, the story of this building takes a fascinating twist.
From the 1980s until at least 2008, the small ex-police station became arguably the strangest and most mysterious restaurant in Edinburgh. It was called Aghtamar Lake Van Monastery in Exile, an Armenian eatery notorious for its random opening times and extremely eccentric owner.
For years, the restaurant was the stuff of legend. If you could track down the owner and make a booking (no easy feat – one reviewer says it took a “month of phone calls”) you could access some utterly amazing food in the form of a ten-course Armenian banquet that diners raved about.
The man behind this delicious spread was Petros Vartynian, an unusual business owner who had a reputation for throwing customers out of the restaurant for – amongst other things – asking for more food or wine, turning up a few minutes late (he would refuse to give people directions to the restaurant), or failing to join in with one of his Armenian dancing tutorials.
We were also told that Vartynian, who still lives in Edinburgh, would ask customers to help with the washing up, and if people didn’t finish one of their courses they weren’t allowed any more food.
The last online review for the Aghtamar was left in late 2008, so it seems likely it stopped operating regularly at that time, although there are some accounts of people dining there as late as 2011. However, the building has gradually fallen into disrepair since and is now classed as “at risk”.
According to a now-archived blog post by local writer Jonny MacFarlane, the interior wasn’t particularly welcoming. Jonny spoke to a friend who had the rare honour of eating there, who said:
“The main eating hall was vast, cold and dark with only candle-light to guide your steps. There didn’t appear to be electricity.
“A giant moose head adorned the wall and various different posters advertising the Armenian tourist board were scattered around.
“There was a ghetto-blaster in the corner playing what sounded like red army choir music from an old, scratchy cassette.
“The whole place had a Soviet era, beyond the iron curtain feel. There were no amenities like heating, menus or salt and pepper.
“The best dish had minced pork and rice rolled up in cabbage leaves. The whole thing was steamed and served with a very nice salad with an amazing dressing. Dessert was also very memorable, a sort of fruit trifle, with very pungent flavors.”
One group once asked for Turkish instead of Armenian coffee – forgetting that Turkey and Armenia have serious historical beef. They instantly regretted it:
“In a sudden rage the owner unceremoniously threw out the entire group, ignoring their apologies and protestations. I think most saw the owner as part of the charm, temper and all. It wasn’t really about a meal, it was about an experience.”
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The article also says that an Armenian newspaper reported in 2012 that the restaurant was going to be turned into an Armenian Cultural Centre.
in a recent interview, Peter himself spoke to the BBC about his time managing the restaurant.
“I’m not really a cook, not a trained cook,” he said.
“I just realised I could make my hobby into my work. I was encouraged by friends when I would host privately.
“I was trying to smash the barriers of general dining, the whole process.
“I’m not doing it for financial rewards, I would only do it if they (the guests) were coming here for some reason I was looking for.]
“People were so keen, I couldn’t control the numbers,” he added. “Some nights we had guests in the three figures, people would bring chairs from home for more seating.”
However, it’s currently on the Buildings At Risk Register and the Edinburgh City Council’s planning officer hasn’t added any information about planned renovations, so it’s fair to say that’s unlikely.
But whatever happens to it in the future, the next time you drive past this iconic building, you can imagine was it was like to dine at the bizarre Aghtamar Lake Van Monastery in Exile: Edinburgh’s most unusual and mysterious restaurant.