I had a lavish Sunday lunch at the Edinburgh luxury hotel named 'UK's best'

There’s a new attraction at this hotel restaurant

In August, Gleneagles Townhouse was named Time Out’s Best Hotel in the UK.

To put that in perspective, London’s grand dame, Claridge’s, was at number 3.

I’m unsurprised. If I’d rocked up for my inaugural visit to Edinburgh, it’d be a thrill to be decanted - after being traumatised by a sweaty tram ride - at this four-year-old five-star hotel.

It’s an oasis, with friendly doormen ready to gently coddle you up the thickly carpeted staircase and into the cool marble reception of this former Bank of Scotland building.

As a local, I don’t sleep over, but I’m always excited to eat in their luxurious restaurant. It’s the spoiling service that wins me over.

Anyway, it was no different when we arrived to try their new Sunday Feast at The Spence - an event that was formerly known as the Brunch Club. It runs from noon until 7:30pm on the last Sunday of every month, for £95pp (including one cocktail token), and the slots are first opened to members, then to civilians. Apparently, this round sold out faster than hot tickets for another Oasis reunion tour.

It was lovely to see that so many folk had dressed up for the occasion, like this was a wedding. Indeed, it has that vibe, with a DJ spinning disco hits, and there are extra surprises. These included, on our visit, a magician and a visit from Edinburgh Sketcher, who was doing watercolour portraits of guests.

After a cocktail - a lychee bellini for me, and a raspberry version for him, included in the price - you start with the buffet. If you’ve ever been to the OG Gleneagles, and had their breakfast, it’s a bit like that. This is a lavish spread. Vast. Decadent. Bacchanalian.

If you want to make it to the main course, you need to exercise self control.

Around the three sides of the square central bar, you’ll find seafood, including various riffs on smoked salmon, from gravadlax to hot smoked, plus langoustines, rollmops, whelks, mussels, prawn cocktail and crab claws, and all the sauces. Another side features heavier picnicky fare, such as quiches, duck and cauliflower cheese croquettes, chicken and chorizo terrine, potato and tabbouleh salads, and sausage rolls, among other goodies. There’re also veggies and olives galore, and a bloody Mary station.

However, don’t forget to visit the cheese and charcuterie room. If I were wealthy, I’d have one of those in my house, perhaps as an en-suite. I took lumps of IJ Mellis’s Rosary Ash Log and Isle of Mull Cheddar, as well as mortadella, coppa, baked camembert, jamon Serrano, and honeycomb, cornichons and caperberries.

I was judicious though. We went up to the buffet twice, then there were no more fresh plates required, thank you.

We had to reserve space for our choice of five main dishes. He’d gone for the roast chicken, and I’d opted for the slow-cooked porchetta, though I was tempted by the beef, after spotting pink slabs being portioned up on the pass. Mine had a neat edge of crackling, and a palm-sized pad of sausagey stuffing. His meat had crispy bronzed skin and came with three fat pigs in blankets, a heap of shredded meat, and we both had a Yorkshire pudding, each of which was so huge, it could’ve been upended and worn as a beret.

On the side, there was a jug of gravy, good crispy roast potatoes, buttery cabbage and carrots.

“I eat less than this at Christmas,” said my other half, and we hadn’t even tackled the dessert room yet. There's also one of these on my future imaginary mansion’s architectural drafts.

We started with a soupcon of ice-cream - I tried the zingy chocolate yuzu sorbet, with glacé cherries on top, and he went for the honeycomb.

On round two, we moved onto a bit of chocolate fountain action. I chose a messy chunky kebab of pineapple, strawberries and marshmallow, and, as I dipped it into one of the sugary weirs, I got as excited as Augustus Gloop.

There are also about five types of more sophisticated cake, and a pick ‘n’ mix section, with various treats, including matchbox-sized chunks of fudge and retro Jazzies. However, our favourite thing was the raspberry-sherbert-dusted custard and berry compote filled doughnut. I also enjoyed the espresso Martini section (further drinks tokens are £10), where I procured the white version, which features chocolate-infused vodka and creme de cacao, among other ingredients.

We swear that we didn’t sneak back to the cheese room for a redux. Instead, I clutched our completed self portrait, which was a fab souvenir of a bon-vivant’s dream of an afternoon.

As we’d left before the magician had appeared, I considered my own trick.

Between the two of us, we’d made 12 full plates disappear. Now, that’s what I call magic.

39 St Andrew Square, Edinburgh (0131-322 3780, gleneagles.com)