103-105 West Bow, Victoria Street, Edinburgh.
0131 220 1121
Food: Juice, smoothies and wraps.
Price: £10 for two courses and juice.
Wheelchair access: Yes.

It is hard to say what makes Hula more of an oddity: is it the display cabinet of vintage high-heeled shoes, a "new world of footwear" on sale to anyone with the right foot measurements; or is it the seed tray brimming over with wheatgrass sitting in the windows? Either way, this daytime juice bar-cum-lunch hangout, just around the corner from the Grassmarket, is a refreshingly quirky addition to the Old Town cafe circuit.

I'm not sure where the shoes come in (although I'm glad they do), but the wheatgrass is there for a purpose. One of the specialities of this mini-chain (there are branches in Tollcross and Edinburgh Zoo) is freshly juiced wheatgrass which, as well as its claimed detoxifying properties, is reckoned by enthusiasts, if not scientists, to be something of a natural energy booster.

Here in Hula, it comes in £1 shots, a vibrant green in its glass, served with a slice of orange sprinkled with cinnamon as if to remind you just how vivid the colour is. For such a small glassful, it has a striking aroma, a familiar smell like an intense spring meadow with a syrupy taste to match.

The waiter assures me it's a fantastic hangover cure, not least when added to the vitamin kick of a carrot, apple and ginger juice. As the festival season draws near, you can imagine Hula becoming an alternative medical centre, nursing partygoers back into life with the extensive menu of "boosters" with names such as superfruiter, liposuction and flu jab, which can be added to the regular juices for 50p a time. Not feeling quite so wrecked, I start off with straightforward carrot and fruit juice and feel the goodness all the same.

By this time, the two women on the next table have started admiring the shoes and I'm thinking what a female-friendly place it is, what with the gentle swing of Feist on the stereo and the flowery cushions on the multicoloured seats. But then they're joined by a man in a suit and no sooner has he sat down than they're taking about a "constitutional mountain" in the sheriff court. That's Edinburgh for you.

And while Hula isn't the first place you'd think of for a business meeting, still less a top-level legal pow-wow, it's easygoing enough to accept all-comers. Just as Feist is replaced by some seriously urban hip-hop, the lawyers launch into an indiscreet analysis of the Tommy Sheridan case. Lawyers and wheatgrass: maybe that's what they mean by a legal high.

A lot of the drinks sound like meals in themselves, but I resist the temptation to have an entirely liquid lunch and order the soup of the day followed by a wrap. Both are top-notch lunchtime fare, the herby homemade tomato soup giving a warming tang, and the wrap offering a moist combination of tasty roasted red pepper and zesty guacamole, with lettuce, crisps and olives to boot.

I'm expecting a friend to join me, so I hold back on ordering one of the exotic smoothies - with cocktail-style names such as Betty Ford, Blunderbuss and Magnetic Island - and go for a slice of passion fruit cake which arrives at my table with ice-cream and warm red berries. This is an extra treat although, in a place that so clearly loves its fruit, I should have expected it. When a customer comes in and orders a simple orange juice, I feel like heckling her timidity.

By the time my friend calls to say she can't make it, I'm feeling full anyway. The Beachcomber, Captain Scarlet and Blue Hawaiian will have to wait for some other time. Or perhaps, seeing as Hula is not only a cafe that sells shoes, but a take-away that sells packets of "multi-vit, iron and antioxidants", I'll stock up and have the same amount of fun in the privacy of my own home.