Restaurant review: North Port, Perth

Sure, there are the usual suspects like 63 Tay Street, Parklands and, fleetingly, the New County, plus sundry others, but for a town of Perth's size and wealth to suffer by comparison to smaller nearby market towns like Crieff and Comrie remains deeply baffling.

So it was encouraging to hear about a little restaurant in the county town's back streets that is making big waves. The North Port is down a small cobbled street just behind the Perth Museum and Art Gallery, right in the middle of what was once Perth's most disreputable district.

In fact, if you can imagine the place a century or two ago, it’s easy to see how its dim gaslights, narrow streets and endless wynds would have been the perfect backdrop for the working girls and footpads who called this section of town home.

These days, if you approach the place from the right angle, it’s almost chocolate box twee. The obvious exception to that is the museum, which is one of the few new buildings which has enhanced the town's architecture in recent years. It is a big, grandiose contemporary statement of a building which almost screams for your attention, and by contrast the quaint little restaurant called North Port is small and diffident, so perfectly in keeping with its surroundings and discreetly tucked away that you could easily walk past without noticing there's a restaurant there.

Were you to do that, however, it would be your loss. This is a gem of a local restaurant: sensibly priced, atmospheric, ambitious and clearly very popular. Without making much noise, word has quietly spread and we had to book almost two weeks ahead to get in on a Thursday evening.

When we first arrived at 7.30pm, we wondered why we'd bothered because we were just one of two full tables, but within half an hour the place was packed to the (very low) rafters and hopeful diners were being turned away at the door.

The first thing you notice about the North Port is that it's tiny, with just over 20 covers. Not only that, but the place has a cosy, intimate atmosphere thanks to wooden cladding all over the inside of the walls, stripped wooden floors and low ceilings that make you feel like you're in some Lilliputian Swiss chalet. The second thing that hits you is the sheer number of dishes on offer, with 11 on the main menu and another ten on the specials board. Talk about a chef making a rod for his own back.

Still, we narrowed down our options quickly, with Rosanna opting for the haggis bon bons with honey mustard mayonnaise while I chose the duck scotch egg with celeriac remoulade and truffle oil. That pretty much set the tenor for a menu that was big on rustic comfort and short on over- elaboration.

I thought Rosanna's much-loved haggis bon bons were a little dry but she completely disagreed and reckoned she’d happily order them again. I thought that the honey mustard mayo certainly went some way to enlivening a dish that would otherwise have been dangerously close to being bland, but was otherwise fairly indifferent. My duck Scotch egg trod a similarly fine line, with the soft, vibrantly orange and obviously free-range egg and the celeriac adding just the right amount of moisture to a dish that could easily have been a little too dry.

Our main courses, however, represented a step change in quality and ambition. My grilled sea bass fillets were perfectly cooked and served with a healthy portion of beautifully judged risotto infused with garden pea and mint.

If my fish dish was characterised by fresh, uplifting flavours, Rosanna's Mediterranean-inspired fillet of red snapper on a butter bean and chorizo stew was an altogether more filling and richer proposition, even if it was every bit as impressive in its own way as my sea bass. Both came with a serving of super-garlicky dauphinoise and nicely al dente vegetables.

Our meal was rounded of with two staple puddings: an apple and cinnamon crumble with ice cream for me, and a crème brûlée with fruit compote and shortbread for Rosanna. My crumble was particularly good, just the way I like it, with the cinnamon-covered slices of apple just turning soft, big crunchy gobbets of crumble the size of small marbles, and super-creamy home-made ice cream that would have been a delight on its own.

If the crème brûulée was a tad more sophisticated, it disappeared in equally short order.

There is much that is good about The North Port, a fact that is clearly not lost on the good folk of Perth. Generally attentive service (except when we wanted to pay), a solid wine list, vibrant atmosphere and generously rustic grub at sensible prices are the foundations of an enjoyable evening, which is exactly what we had.

It’s not fine dining, but if what you want is a relaxed evening out or are at a loose end midweek, then it’s definitely worth a try – if you can get in, that is.

North Port

8 North Port, Perth (01738 580867; www.thenorthport.co.uk )

Bill please

Starters £4.25-£6.50. Main courses £10.95-£16.95. Puddings £4.45-£4.95 (cheese £6.45).

Rating

7/10