I TRY not to be deceived by appearances, but from the outside the New County Hotel isn't much to look at. The whitewashed Victorian terrace housing this little boutique hotel is as close to the conspicuously run-down bit of Perth's centre as it is to
the posh quarters along the road, where the grand façade of the library dominates the skyline.
Yet once you step through the front door, the whole environment mysteriously morphs into that of a top-quality hotel. The place was extensively renovated just over a year ago, and it shows. The service is slick, the lounge comfortable yet smart, while the bar is somewhere you would be happy to while away a few hours in cheerful contemplation of a pint or two.
All of that, though, is just a support cast for the star of the show, Opus One. The hotel's restaurant is immaculate and its menu immediately draws you in with its mix of simple ingredients augmented with novel twists. As soon as the dishes start to arrive, it becomes apparent that this is food designed to make you sit up and take notice. It does so brilliantly, too, grabbing your attention and keeping it from first bite to last.
But we're a conservative bunch, and it has taken time for the fact that this Skoda has a Ferrari engine to filter through to the outside world. After a year of producing consistently outstanding food, it is shedding the 'best-kept secret' tag. Word has spread and the place is now attracting decent head-counts at weekends. The plaudits and gongs are starting to arrive, too.
Head chef Ryan Young and sous chef David Cochrane head up a startlingly young team, which has gained two AA rosettes and the title of Rising Star Restaurant of 2009 at the Scottish Hotel Awards. Judging by our meal, these are well deserved.
The first delivery was an amuse bouche of bruschetta smeared with finely chopped roasted red peppers and topped with three streaks of anchovy, all supplemented with rocket oil. It was a quirky mix of strong flavours that fused beautifully. Within ten minutes of sitting down, we were already on our mettle.
Our suspicion that this could be an exceptional meal was confirmed when the starters arrived. I'd chosen the marinated breast of pigeon with raspberry vinaigrette and a smoked venison rasher, while Mike had gone for carrot and coriander soup. Rosanna opted for the boudin of scallops with poached asparagus and pea foam.
For some reason, I've found that cooking pigeon perfectly is, along with the ability to produce perfect risotto, a useful barometer of a chef's competence. Young passed this simple if idiosyncratic test without breaking sweat. The six intricately arranged crimson stripes of pigeon breast on my plate were absolutely spot-on: just a hint of gameyness, so tender I could have used a fork to slice them in half. I dabbled briefly with the raspberry accompaniment and then thought better of it: this dish was best consumed without fripperies.
If Mike's soup passed muster, then Rosanna's boudin of scallops – quite literally a huge sausage-shaped expanse of the stuff – reduced her to mumbling ecstasy. We took this as a sign of approval.
If our starters looked like mini works of art, our main courses were fully fledged masterpieces. Mike's sautéed loin of lamb rolled in herbs and served with what was described as a nicoise salad garnish was particularly spectacular. All the salad ingredients were there, from the boiled quail's egg to the minutely chopped green beans, disassembled to flank what can only be described as a spectacular food sculpture. It tasted remarkably good, too, the lamb incredibly tender and succulent.
Next to that, both my roasted saddle of venison with roasted salsify and shallots, and Rosanna's monkfish wrapped in parma ham looked almost run of the mill. Neither were remotely ordinary, though: the monkfish and venison, which came with an excellent wild mushroom ravioli and a small jug of garlic consommé (the latter turned out to be surplus to requirements), were both perfectly cooked dishes.
The pick of the puddings was definitely Mike's supremely light yet zesty lemon and crème fraîche mousse with rhubarb crumble and custard, an ensemble that was once again broken down into its constituent parts. As every fragment turned out to be near-perfect, this was no problem. My hot chocolate fondant, however, wasn't great: not only was it pretty stodgy, but the rum and raisin ice-cream was surprisingly bland and the hot chocolate shot lukewarm. Rosanna was equivocal about her sticky toffee pudding, too.
Yet there were no complaints about my eye-wateringly strong double espresso, which was accompanied by a tray containing five petits fours per person (I'm pretty sure I got to double figures).
There is, in short, very little not to like about Opus One. The service was slick and cheery, the food generally fluctuated between good and great, the wine list worked for me, and at less than £30 a head it's great value (even better is a night's dinner, bed and breakfast at £59).
The only downside was a lack of atmosphere. But if the wooden-floored room itself looked very sparse, then that's hardly surprising, because on the Tuesday night we visited we were the only diners. However, if the food continues to be this consistently good, then this is a state of affairs that won't persist for much longer.
vital statisticsOpus One, New County Hotel, 22-30 County Place, Perth (01738 623355;
www.newcountyhotel.com)
Out of pocket Two-course dinner £25.50 Three-course dinner £29.50 Coffee and petits fours £2.95
Stars 8.5
