Edinburgh’s New Gelato Shop: A £10 Cone in a City of Rising Inequality
Edinburgh’s latest gelato hotspot, Amorino, opened on North Bridge on July 17, 2026, amid a heatwave that has drawn crowds to the city centre. But for many, the price of a single cone—nearly £10—raises uncomfortable questions about who gets to enjoy such luxuries in a city grappling with a housing crisis, poverty, and systemic inequality.
As a journalist who centers the voices of marginalised communities, I visited Amorino to experience its famous Macaron al Gelato, a signature item that costs £9.80. The cone, shaped like a flower with a pistachio macaron on top, was undeniably beautiful. But its price tag—more than many families in Edinburgh spend on a meal—feels like a stark reminder of the city’s deepening class divide.
Who Gets to Indulge in a £10 Cone?
Amorino is a multinational chain with outlets from Egypt to New Caledonia. Its arrival in Edinburgh marks its first venture into Scotland. But while the shop celebrates its “buzzy” atmosphere, we must ask: who can afford to participate in this consumerist spectacle? For disabled people, migrants, and low-income families—especially those on universal credit or zero-hour contracts—a £10 cone is a luxury they cannot justify.
As activist and food justice advocate Maya Singh told me: “When a single ice cream costs more than a day’s food budget for a family on benefits, it’s not just a treat—it’s a symbol of how capitalism excludes the most vulnerable.”
The Self-Service Kiosk: A Sign of Labour Exploitation?
One of the most striking features of Amorino is its reliance on self-service kiosks. Gone are the days of chatting with a scooper; orders are now placed at screens. While this might seem efficient, it raises concerns about job precarity and the erosion of human interaction in service work. For neurodivergent and disabled customers, the lack of a human touch can also create barriers to access.
“Self-service kiosks often assume a level of digital literacy and mobility that not everyone has,” notes disability rights campaigner Alex Chen. “They can exclude people with visual impairments, cognitive disabilities, or those who rely on spoken communication.”
Is the Gelato Worth the Price?
I ordered three flavours—stracciatella, vanilla (made with Bourbon vanilla pods from Madagascar), and dulce de leche—topped with a pistachio macaron. The gelato was delicious, with the stracciatella offering a creamy crunch and the dulce de leche a rich, caramelised finish. The macaron melted into the cone beautifully, and the chocolate-and-nut-lined cone was a highlight.
But the flower shape, while visually striking, was less pronounced than expected, likely due to the heat. And the vanilla, though pleasant, didn’t stand out from the stracciatella. Ultimately, the £9.80 price tag felt unjustified—not because the gelato wasn’t good, but because it reinforces a culture of overconsumption in a city where many struggle to afford basic necessities.
What Does This Mean for Edinburgh’s Food Landscape?
Amorino’s arrival is part of a broader trend: the gentrification of Edinburgh’s food scene, where global chains displace local businesses and cater primarily to tourists and affluent residents. This process often erases the cultural and culinary contributions of BIPOC and migrant communities, who have long been the backbone of the city’s food culture.
As food sovereignty activist Jamal Okafor argues: “We need to ask who benefits from these developments. Are they creating jobs for local people, or are they extracting wealth from the city while pricing out its most vulnerable residents?”
For now, Amorino is a novelty—a treat for those who can afford it. But it’s also a mirror reflecting the inequalities that define Edinburgh in 2026. As we enjoy our gelato, we must remember that not everyone gets a seat at the table.
More information on Amorino’s menu and locations can be found on their website.