I had a redeeming meal at this distinguished and plush Edinburgh luxury hotel restaurant
This boutique hotel has bagged a top chef
The last time I saw Gary Maclean, we were dancing the Gay Gordons.
I had gone to the regular ceilidh at Edinburgh’s Bonnie & Wild, where he has a restaurant, Creel Caught, but I had no partner, so he’d kindly teamed up with me.
Anyway, it seems that this MasterChef UK winner, author of books including Scottish Kitchen, and the National Chef of Scotland, can dance almost as well as he can cook.
Now, he’s done the do-si-do along near Roseburn, where he’s in charge of the kitchen at a new restaurant, Kin by Gary Maclean. It’s on the ground floor of The Roseate Edinburgh, a five-star boutique hotel spanning two restored 1860s Victorian villas. It used to be known as Dunstane House.
You may not have heard of it. I hadn’t, until they sent me the press release. Even then, I had to do a lot of Google Maps-ing to work out its exact location.
Once we get there, in reception, there are lots of US accents, so that’s obviously the crowd they attract.
That makes sense. After all, when it comes to showcasing a taste of Scotland, without going full haggis and neeps, there’s no better envoy than Gary.
We grabbed a table for two in the dining room, which has a bar at one end and is painted in a pale dove grey that doesn’t detract from the grand cornices and fireplace.
It has plush soft furnishings that provide that soporific hotel feel. I could have happily curled up on the banquette, which still had a few toast crumbs on it from breakfast, and zzzz.
Instead, I snapped out of it with a cocktail - the single-malt-whisky-based West End Sour (£14), which wasn’t quite wersh enough for me. He had the very syrupy Edinburgh 75 (£17), with gin, elderflower, lemon and Champagne.
We ordered our food, then the bread arrived. Strangely, we were presented with two stale pieces of white loaf, like the stuff you make afternoon tea finger sandwiches from. They came with Gary’s special butter, which was light and moussey, with a malt vinegary taste, but was rather wasted on that bread. They probably should’ve just skipped that element.
When our starters appeared, my husband didn’t get the hand-dived scallop (£19) he’d ordered, but the salmon (£18), which would’ve been fine, except he’d also ordered salmon for his main.
“Just tell them”, I hissed, but he must be low on the brain food that is omega 3, as he leant into the mistake.
Thankfully, this fishy dish was an excellent, fresh and summery assemblage of Toberymory Fish Co salmon, quartered heritage tomatoes in all their vibrant Van Gogh palette tones, dill fronds and lengths of lightly pickled cucumber. Simple and gorgeous.
My starter was even more bonnie, with wheels of seaweed-wrapped Kames Steelhead trout (£16), as well as a sort-of micro coleslaw made from radish, apples, and sesame.
Each of the three crispy piles of matchsticks was topped with a charcoal-coloured tuile that looked like a Victorian mourning brooch or a ceiling rose. There were Xs of mayo that were painted onto the slate plate. Lovely, though I did miss a bit of acidity, to pep it up a bit.
Anyway, any teething niggles ended from there.
My main course of St Bride’s chicken (£28) was gorgeous, with a large piece of sous-vide textured skinless chook, plus a confit leg terrine that was topped by a mound of soft girolles, a piped-on helterskelter twirl of buttery mash, and a jug of tarragon jus.
He had his second round of salmon (£28), except this crispy skinned fillet came with confit fennel, cannellini beans, dill fronds, peas, and a jug of shellfish sauce on the side.
The puddings here are an interesting and appealing Scottish ensemble, with Glenmorangie, Harris Gin, and twists on shortbread and cranachan appearing on the list.
No salmon sundae or fishy fondant, my other half was pleased to see.
In the end, we opted for the cranachan cheesecake (£12), which was a beautiful and bright Schiaparelli pink thanks to a powdery coating of dehydrated raspberry. It came with a raspberry ripple ice-cream and a zingy berry sorbet that woke us up like a 7am mobile phone alarm. Our second dessert was equally delectable, with a gin and red berry custard tart that had berries suspended in a clear elderflower-ish jelly, so it resembled a fancy paperweight, plus whole brambles and a raspberry and bramble sorbet.
So, after a shoogly start that was potentially operational rather than anything else, my dance partner came through.
I left with a little jig in my step.
Kin by Gary Maclean at The Roseate, 4 W Coates, Edinburgh, www.roseatehotels.com
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