I had a seductive lunch at this luxurious Scottish seaside hotel restaurant
This plush and handsome hotel is a welcome pitstop
I wouldn’t say we had the most relaxing journey to Marine Troon.
I’m inclined to blame the sat-nav, for sending us in the wrong direction when we hit Glasgow and the motorway suddenly splits into strands like it's been fed through a pasta machine.
However, my other half says it was my fault, for not paying enough attention when I had been tasked as the official route finder. I may be fine, but I’m no Sir Ranulph Fiennes.
So, when we arrived at this luxurious five-star hotel, which opened in 2022 and is owned by the investment firm, AJ Capital, who also looks after Marine North Berwick and Rusacks St Andrews - all part of the Marine & Lawn Hotels & Resorts collection - we were in need of more than basic sustenance.
I required my nerves to be soothed and my joie de vivre to be restored. The emergency glove compartment Haribo hadn’t hit the spot.
Things started to look up when we took our seats in the dining room of their smart two AA rosette restaurant, The Rabbit, which has a view out to the 17th hole of the Royal Troon Golf Course and the Firth of Clyde. We’d gone for the smarter option, though the hotel also has a more casual venue, The Seal, which serves pub grub and is just across the corridor.
That’s because the table next to us had ordered the Champagne afternoon tea, but they had their cars, so they gave us their glasses of fizz, and I’m the only non-driver at our table. Cheers to me. I felt better already, after a few medicinal sips. However, I couldn’t drink it all, as I’d already ordered a very heady pinot noir negroni (£12), which was made with Secret Garden Pinot Noir Gin and Vermouth, Campari and orange bitters.
Our server, Thelma, cheered us up too, as she told us all about her dog, Bruce Lee. There couldn’t be a better name for a Labrador.
I bet he would’ve liked the confit rabbit agnolotti (£15), though I wouldn’t want to share this huge almost-main-course-sized portion, which featured fresh and light bunny centres in four slippery pasta envelopes, as well as wild sorrel, a light hazelnut cream with halved nuts sprinkled across the top, and the last of this year’s wild garlic. Very fancy, but hearty, too.
He had the equally spring-like Ayrshire asparagus (£14) - five spears, as bouncy as vaulting poles, all topped with shaved Parmesan, hazelnuts, toasted seeds, and a perfect runny-middled breadcrumbed egg with a black truffle hat. Gorgeous.
It became obvious that the grub here is fine-dining adjacent, but without the small portions. Also, food is hot, rather than tepid. Both good things, I suppose, if you’ve just had a round of golf on that blowy course. Or, had just endured the car journey from Hell.
My main course was a lovely piece of pollock (£27), with a creamy, magnolia-coloured and pleasingly acidic Gusbourne Blanc de Blanc veloute, and buttery Jersey Royals, sea aster leaves, a crunchy and coppery buckwheat crisp, and a creamy fishy quenelle.
As I shovelled this in, like Bruce Lee after his walkies, I began to wish I had a room upstairs, and that we’d never have to get back in the motor.
He had the crispy cornfed chicken breast (£30), with a colourfully splotchy plate that featured a yellow corn veloute, oyster and other assorted mushrooms and spring truffle.
While the savoury bits are rather sophisticated, the puddings go straight for the sugary jugular. That suits me.
I’m always a bit sad when I order a meringue dessert (£9.50), and, as pretty as its toasted peaks look, it turns out to be the soft Italian sort. I’m a fan of its less sophisticated cousin, the hard crispy French variety. This was one of those, and it was topped with a huge globe of salted caramel ice-cream, with dulce de leche blobs on the side, toffee shards, strawberries and cream.
He had the white chocolate and crowdie mousse (£10), which was another assortment of dentist baiting goodies, including a hole-y biscuit that looked like a slice of Swiss cheese, macerated strawberries and rhubarb, and a zingy strawberry and prosecco sorbet.
As far as pitstops go, it couldn’t get much better than this. It's certainly no Little Chef, or egg mayo sandwich with the windows rolled down.
I’d suggest that you set your sat-nav to Marine Troon, and make sure to pay attention extra round Glasgow, or risk the driver’s ire.
The Rabbit, Marine Troon, 8 Crosbie Road, Troon (01292 314444, www.therabbitandseal.com)
Read more: “I had lunch at this Edinburgh luxury hotel and it got me thinking about this humble pleasure”
Comments
Want to join the conversation? Please or to comment on this article.