On Edinburgh’s Leith Walk, a tiny cantina and hot sauce producer is serving some of the best Mexican brunch plates up north, and possibly, the whole of the UK.
Chorrito, meaning “a little pour” in Spanish, was founded by Dan Bentlett and Dawn Freeman. It’s the perfect name for a brand that’s bottling up some sultry liquid heat inspired by chilli peppers across Mexico.
The habanero, orange and coffee sauce, for example, is the duo’s original flavour and their pride and joy, using ingredients like garlic, tomatoes, bell peppers and ginger, as well as coffee-infused white wine vinegar for an extra caffeinated kick. A few ‘chorritos’ of this on your breakfast and you’re alert for the day.
There’s theatre, too! Each bottle is topped with a pipette to add heat drop by drop. It’s immersive, interactive and an Instagram-worthy b-roll shot – just don’t rub your eyes right after.
The sauces took off and the duo expanded Chorrito into a full-time cantina, serving a menu that complements their sauce flavours. When they realised that their hearts belonged to the sauce-making more than the service, they scaled back the cantina, flipped the hours, with brunch available on weekends only.
When I moved to the UK, I had low hopes for Mexican cuisine here… places like Chorrito continue to prove me so wrong
I consider myself blessed to have booked a two-night stay behind Leith Walk – four minutes from Chorrito – on the weekend of my week-long Edinburgh trip. When I got there around noon on Saturday, all of the seats were taken except one stool at the bar counter (fate, or just the perks of solo dining).
A margarita with fresh lime juice, drops of Chorrito’s habanero, mango and tumeric sauce and a chilli-powder rim warmed my body and soul. You can order one with mezcal if you want more of a smokey flavour, but the tequila hit me so well, I ordered another.
Between cocktails, I watched the surrounding action: Dan rolling up dough balls for the tortilla press, Dawn zooming back and forth between frying eggs and shaking cocktails, sleepy locals – many hungover from the night before – pipetting sauces on their tacos and guzzling them down, hoping to sweat out last night’s sins.
One of those plates was the torta de birria, slow-braised brisket, melted cheese, and jardín (pronounced har-deen) – a holy trinity of finely chopped onions, coriander and chilli, are stuffed into a fluffy milk bun by Edinburgh’s popular Company Bakery. When you think you can’t add more flavour, the torta gets cut in half and dunked into a steamy bowl of consommé, absorbing the savoury broth, bottom up.
“It’s kind of like the tortas ahogadas in Mexico,” I heard Dan tell a guest. “They pour this delicious salsa in a plastic bag and toss the sandwich in so it completely drowns the sandwich. It’s so fun! Unfortunately, I don’t think I can serve it that way here, so we just use a bowl.”
Chilaquiles Rojos
Huevos rancheros
LA biscuit tacos
Then, a plate of chilaquiles rojos (‘cheel-ah-keel-ehs ro-hos’) hit the counter. Crispy totopos drenched in salsa roja (a recurring theme) were topped with two fried eggs, Mexican-style chorizo, guacamole, cheese, crema, onions and coriander. This wasn’t a plate, it was a mountain. From where could I take a totopo without an avalanche of spicy delight falling off the plate? It was a game of Mexican brunch Jenga, and to make it more difficult, I popped an egg yolk and it ran down the totopos like bright-yellow lava. Dan saw my struggle and handed me a second plate.
I took a fork-ful of totopos with all the trimmings and it was divine. Next thing you know, I’m pipetting and chiselling my way through the mountain (Chorrito’s chipotle, pineapple and garlic sauce is excellent for this, by the way), eroding it down to a hill before tapping out.
I’m not normally one to double-dip a restaurant on a trip, but that’s exactly what I did. Back at the cantina on Sunday, this time with a friend, we ordered our drinks (water for her, marg for me), the huevos rancheros and LA biscuit tacos.
The huevos rancheros at Chorrito are gluten-free and vegetarian (quite a few plates are) and come with two freshly pressed, blue-corn tortillas, two fried eggs, queso fresco and black beans, all smothered in salsa roja with jalapeños and jardin on top. The egg yolks, like the day before, were bright and perfectly ‘oozy’, and drops of the jalapeño, apple and tequila sauce added extra depth and light heat without torturing British palates.
However, I am a chorizo slut, and the LA biscuit tacos are a Chorrito chorizo signature. Two blue-corn tortillas are layered with crispy, grilled cheese, Mexican chorizo, black beans, guacamole, crema and jardin. Be still my beating Mexican heart. It was filled with texture and was a lovely ode to back home, while showcasing quality ingredients from my new home.
When I moved to the UK, I had low hopes for Mexican cuisine here – that it’d be a white-washed rendition with processed taco shells, liquid queso by the litre and watered-down mixer-made margaritas. Places like Chorrito, and people like Dan and Dawn, continue to prove me so wrong. It happened last year when I visited Paz in Edinburgh’s New Town, too. There are Brits who genuinely give a shit about the culture just as much as the culinary traditions. With the rise of conservatism and racial tensions, I tend to forget that. Chorrito was a brilliant, comforting, much-needed reminder.
Oh, and unless you’re looking for a spiked OJ or the sweet heat of chipotle, there are no desserts on the menu at Chorrito. Sweetness isn’t on brand anyway, it’s all spice here and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
126 Leith Walk
Edinburgh
EH6 5DT
February 2026
