Eating My Daughter’s Love Letter

Rebel Eldest looking very gorgeous….

My eldest (who is shaping up to be not-so-much of a rebel really) took me out for dinner last night.

It was to devour a ‘taster’ menu, cooked by her friend and colleague, Iain Richardson (currently Sous Chef at New Lanark Mill Hotel).

I was a bit (just a bit) suspicious of the motive behind the invitation. Disloyal? Ok. Yes… 

My plea in mitigation? Meg has a wonderful history of breaking bad news at times and in places where you can’t go all feral on her… 

But the girl done good last night. Oh my God how good she did.

The meal was a two hour slice of food heaven:

  • Smoked Potato and Criffel Cheese Bonbons
  • Pickled Melon, serrano ham and crispy pigskin
  • Pate, Brioche and Onion Marmalade
  • Arbroath Smokie Scotch Egg without the egg served with apple puree, horseradish and baby asparagus (with little deep-fried ‘hats’) and pea fondant
  • Apple sorbet served in a hand-blown sugar apple – complete with little sugar-glass leaf!
  • Ham hough tower with puree and confit of something
  • Trio of beef (including shin and fillet) with the most amazing beetroot puree I have ever ever tasted and little potato medallions that were divine (I hate potatoes)
  • Rum Baba
  • Balsamic Ice-cream serveed with pistachio and chocolate and strawberry foam and jelly.
  • Dark Chocolate, raspberry and salted caramel macaroon with chocolate fondant and raspberry coulis.
I am almost certain I’ve missed a course – I’ll check with Meg (just to encourage your envious salivation). And Meg has some photos which I’ll post.

The other diners were unsuccessful in attempts to hide their curiosity. Eventually one woman came across to say she’d never seen so many wonderful courses – what was the occasion and how did she order the special meal we were having?

It was then that I realised that the food we were being served was just a bit different from the menu choices (which are amazing in themselves).

Meg blushed and explained she worked in the hotel just now – that it was her friend who was cooking for her.

And when Iain came out from his hideout in the kitchen it occurred to me that what I’d eaten 
was a love letter written in food…

PS She did beg a favour – will you take my cat, Mum? – relieved it wasn’t some fresh rebel occurrence, I said OK…