New tricks in the sticks

Review by Joanna Blythman
Published: October 6, 2008
© The Sunday Herald

It’s a good few years since I ate at Glenskirlie House. It was then, and still is, an oasis in one of the country's eating out deserts. I can't speak for the Grill restaurant in the castle part, but the original restaurant, with its conspiratorial, clubby, faux Arts and Crafts mood is surprisingly congenial considering that the building itself has no great character and almost no natural light.

A good attitude prevails, presumably generated by the people who own it - the Macaloney family. Villeroy & Boch china and starched linen notwithstanding, it manages to be friendly and unpretentious. Nicely relaxed too. The only place I know with a similar feel is the estimable Buttery in Glasgow.

Tick, tick, tick for all this, and the food adds another load more. The cooking has got better than I remember it, each dish the accumulation of lots of little things done right by careful chefs who are clearly putting time, effort and thought into everything they turn out. Take, for example, the lovely fillet of sea bream which had been marinated in saffron before being lightly grilled.

It was sat on couscous - so often a starchy mush but here dry, crumbly and adeptly seasoned with fresh coriander and tomato flesh. (Seasoning is a noticeable strength here. The kitchen's palate is decisive but spot-on.) With this came a quivering jelly with the flavours of a gazpacho soup.

The crisp-skinned, hot, slightly oily fish with the chilled, refreshing jelly and the free-flowing grain with its cluster of lively flavours made a lovely mouthful. The other starter was equally well conceived, a juicy terrine formed with strands of veal (from a melting osso bucco cut) and unctuous duck liver, prettily partnered, and its richness foiled, by a warm purple compote of poached grapes.

It turned out that both our main courses were new to the menu and they convinced me that the kitchen is heading in the right direction: more adventurous, less traditional. Mallard duck, an underused bird, offered pink-roasted, succulent breast and tender, slowly cooked leg, boned out and kept moist by the inclusion of fat liver.

Served with green cabbage braised with black mustard seeds, caramelised fondant potato and a fruity game jus, we ate the last forkful with just as much enthusiasm as the first.

By way of an inventive vegetarian option, the assiette of pumpkin, which exploited this gourd's affinity with cheese and cream, had a lot going for it. The weakest element was a cumin and pumpkin soup which was meeker than the introductory sweet potato and rosemary one that preceded it, but a crunchy pumpkin tart made savoury with smoked cheese and a chalky-centred risotto held the attention. This dish could be further developed with the addition of amber-green pumpkinseed oil, possibly dressing wintry salads like watercress and lamb's lettuce.

Desserts have always been something of a floor show at Glenskirlie with samples of half a dozen displayed under shining glass domes on a trolley.

They look so appealing, I swear it's a plot to make you order more than one. With great difficulty, because the kaffir lime leaf jelly looked intriguing, we settled on just two: a Cointreau soufflé with orange compôte and a pear tarte Tatin.

Both surpassed expectations. The eggy heart of the fragrant orange-scented soufflé became all the more dreamy when a smooth crème Anglaise custard was poured into it. The tarte was less a pastry with pear than pear with the thinnest crust enrobing it. The fruit itself was ripe and full-flavoured, enhanced by an inner core of star anise and its darkly caramelised extremities.

Alongside a buttery caramel sauce and a smooth vanilla ice cream, it was a total delight.

Prices at Glenskirlie are high. Not the wine especially - there are some bargain bottles amongst the older, more serious wines - and commendably there's a reasonable selection of half bottles. Food, however, is at the upper limit for this sort of establishment. The pumpkin trio cost £19.25, a scallop starter £10.75, even braised shin of beef was scarcely an "economy cut" at £24.

But on a Tuesday evening, Glenskirlie must have had around 25 covers which suggests that even in a recession, plenty of people are persuaded that a meal here is money well spent.