I tried the £99 dinner at this luxury five-star Scottish hotel and was utterly spoiled rotten

Contributed

£99 doesn’t get you very far these days.

You could probably book a haircut, along with a fraction of highlights. Well, at least the two streaks at the front, a la Geri Halliwell in the Spice Girls’ hey-day.

Perhaps the left foot on a new pair of the latest New Balance, or a direct flight to Riga. No return.

I know where I’d rather spend that amount of cash. Here, at Number One at The Balmoral. As well as their set seven-course £125pp dinner tasting menu, they’re currently offering a seasonal three-course a la carte for £99pp, and you can add paired wines for an additional £50.

It may not have a Michelin star anymore, but who cares? Not me. They still have four AA rosettes.

At 28-years-old, which is about 246 in Edinburgh restaurant years, this basement level destination is still as fine-dining an establishment as ever, with head chef Mathew Sherry at the helm, though the food is marginally less fussy than it used to be.

I’m a fan because a visit is always an old-school spoiling session. The interior is cossetingly swanky, and the staff are wonderful.

In an age when joggers are classed as office attire, a visit is an excuse to dress up. Since the website asks guests to refrain from wearing sportswear, shorts and beach shoes, I left my signature Crocs and neon leotard at home and aired a musty frock.

It felt like it was my birthday, but better, since there were no actual numbers involved.

There is also no sense of being hurried. The three courses are book-ended by lingering loveliness, starting with the amuse bouche.

We had a pair of two Cullen-skink-themed croustades, which were haddocky and plush mouthfuls, plus two rich duck liver and pistachio bites on buttery cups of shortcrust.

Then we were presented with a guinea-pig-sized loaf of flour-dusted linseed sourdough, with a perfect glossy globe of butter on the side.

For starters, I’d gone for the west coast langoustine, Denhead Farm asparagus, coral hollandaise (£15 supplement), and the plate was an Irish flag vision of green and orange hues.

There was also a single spear of asparagus, all dressed up with tiny fronds of dill and flowers, like Millais’s painting of Ophelia. The plate also featured three large nuggets of seafood, and two veloutes - a coral Hollandaise and a charred asparagus number

He’d gone for another seaside gem - the hand-dived scallop, which was cut into four fishy and pearlescent doorstopper slices, with artichoke crisps, a roast chicken vin jaune and little leaves of sea beet.

Gaby Soutar

Mr Double Fish followed that up with the Shetland halibut. It had also been sliced into two pale palm-sized pads, alongside a courgette and halibut veloute, a crispy whole artichoke, and a quenelle of red pepper marmalade.

For my main course, I had the equally gorgeous Cullinan Farm lamb option.

There were pieces of short saddle, and almost everything else on the plate - apart from the jus, the triangle of potato fondant, and shallot puree - was a fragrant celebration of wild garlic, with intense blobs, cooked leaves and a dark green jam. It was like walking up Castlehill in spring.

I’d pre-ordered my Maracaibo 65% chocolate souffle, so there wasn’t the usual lengthy sojourn before it arrived. Still, when it landed, I was ready and could’ve happily face-planted and inhaled the whole breezily light bubble-bath-esque celebration of cocoa in one nostril-tickling slurp.

Gaby Soutar

He’d gone for the rhubarb number, with its riff on this vegetable - it’s not a fruit, guys - and custardy cremeaux accoutrements, “My dream dessert,” he said.

And it wasn’t over. We’re usually the first to tap out, as I think our appetites are becoming bird-like. We often don’t even make it to puddling.

But I think we wanted to stretch the evening out, so I could enjoy being in this room, wearing my smart frock and feeling like a blow-dried chinchilla.

Thus, we said aye to the cheese course. Three for £15, and, since he doesn’t like blue or goats, we chose St Andrews Farmhouse Cheddar; ewe’s milk cheese, Spenwood, and our favourite earthy and creamy Winslade. They came with poppy seed crackers, mini oatcakes, truffle honey and a facemask-esque cucumber jelly.

We tanked the lot, though when they brought round the sweetie trolley - every restaurant should have one - our hulls were groaning like old cargo ships.

Thankfully, they let us take away an After Eight macaron, some whisky tablet, and other bonnie bites.

It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this spoiled.

Go, and a very happy birthday. The ones without any numbers are the best.

Number One Restaurant, The Balmoral, 1 Princes Street, Edinburgh (0131-557 6727, www.roccofortehotels.com)

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