The Bill
Lunch for two, £33, excluding drinks
TRAVEL around rural France and you will come across a veritable galaxy of small country hotels with their own bijou restaurants, serving wonderful local food for a fraction of the price you fork out
in the UK.
I blame the customers (sorry, folks) for not demanding more than scampi and thick-cut chips. I blame the hotel and pub chains for being unimaginative. I blame the politicians for charging excessive rates and not nourishing local creative talent. I blame VisitScotland for having a silly name and not putting more effort into raising restaurant standards to world class, especially as we have all the best food ingredients. And I blame reviewers such as myself for concentrating on trendy urban eateries rather than the true country roots of decent cuisine.
But fear not, Scotland now has the perfect model of a French rural hotel and serious restaurant – the Horseshoe Inn in the village of Eddleston, outside Peebles, a mere 40 minutes from Edinburgh. Originally a blacksmith's shop, then a down-at-heel pub, it has been rescued by French chef Patrick Bardoulet and turned into just the kind of idyllic establishment you'd love to find by chance after a hard day's driving through Burgundy. In October, the Horseshoe Inn was declared AA Restaurant of the Year for Scotland 2007-2008. What's more, the prices are more European than rapacious Scottish.
Bardoulet began his career at Chateau Montvillargenne, north of Paris. At 26 he headed abroad, cooking in Ireland, England, Denmark and Cyprus. In 2005, he decided to open his own restaurant and plumped for the Horseshoe Inn. The old inn has been extensively refurbished. The décor has a cosy, peachy feel but the design sense is very European.
Bardoulet brings a strong French influence to the menu and cooking but, wisely, he is not attempting to clone any particular regional cuisine. Instead, he is doing what French rural restaurants do – presenting local ingredients and local dishes with flair, inventiveness and a strong emphasis on distinct flavours. The result is a pleasing blend of French and Scottish, traditional and modern. And everything is prepared on the premises, including the bread.
We tackled the three-course lunch – set price £16.50 per head. This began with an elegant amuse-gueule – a rich goats cheese and courgette soup accompanied with a crouton smothered in home-made pesto. Our tastebuds thus sharpened, we had the smoked salmon with warm tarragon potato salad with yoghurt and citrus dressing; and the baked oatmeal-coated goats cheese with mango salsa, amaranth salad and red pepper coulis. In most restaurants, starters are a perfunctory business but this was a success, though – as always – salmon rarely tastes of anything unless it is wild.
For mains my partner went for the roast rump of lamb with onion purée, cocoa beans, potato fondant and red wine jus. But as this is the Noel season, I ordered the traditional turkey with apricot stuffing, Brussels sprouts, chestnut and port wine jus. The Borders lamb was juicy and succulent but the turkey was, I fear, a mite dry. However, my dining companion is besotted with chestnuts and these were especially delicious, adding an earthy flavour to what is usually a bland fowl at the best of times.
The last was best – the desserts were magnificent. The marinated creme de cassis pear with brandy snap and vanilla ice-cream looked stunning and tasted even better. The shimmering, translucent pear deserved a Turner Prize for artistic elegance, if only the Turner was given for anything resembling a work of art.
Again, to slip into the seasonal mood, I had the traditional Christmas pudding with brandy sauce and vanilla ice-cream. To my mind, this was the big test – a French chef doing Christmas pud? But you have not tasted Christmas pudding until you have tasted how Patrick Bardoulet does it – delicate, smooth and accompanied by perfect, light custard.
The wine list is as one would expect – extensive and serious. It contains Old and New World selections but there is an obvious bias towards good French labels. As lunch was so cheap, I splashed out on a Vosne Romanée from Domaine Guyon (£42.95). That may sound a lot but it's not far off what you'd pay for this particular elegant, well-made Pinot Noir if you bought a bottle in a shop.
The Horseshoe Inn does a special Sunday lunch – the French family institution – for £25, with the menu changing by the week. And, as well as the main restaurant, it also has a bistro-bar.
Too often in Scottish country restaurants the service is either vague, hand-knitted or delivered by under-trained casuals. What made me feel I was in Europe when I visited the Horseshoe Inn were the smart, professional front-of-house staff – and the fact that there were enough of them. Monsieur Bardoulet knows that enjoying food is a total cultural experience, not something you chuck at people.
The Horseshoe Inn is a major culinary undertaking, not just the typical hobby enterprise of retired urbanites who have seen too many Channel 4 relocation shows. I hope Patrick Bardoulet attracts the custom to justify his heroic effort. Joyeux Noel! sm
The full article contains 890 words and appears in The Scotsman newspaper.
