The season of celebration is creeping up on us and the closer it gets, the more sociable I feel. Office parties start appearing, girlie catch-ups are being scheduled and dare I say it, I picked up some festive wrapping paper on special offer the other day.
Perthshire is so incredibly blessed with produce, beauty, history and wonderful people. Spending time there whether you live there or have travelled hundreds of miles is a privilege.
Whatever our opinion of them, hotels are popping up all over the place in Dundee and with them come new eating establishments. I love a hotel breakfast, especially a buffet, but when it come to an evening meal, they can sometimes be quite soulless.
My little family were out and about in Perthshire and looking for somewhere to grab Sunday lunch. We didn't want anything fancy, just some winter warmers on a blustery day. We had heard good things about The Pitcairngreen Inn and so called to book a table as we were on our way.
My dad is the only person I know who doesn't like pizza. In the UK, though, pizza takes on very many forms from the microwave deep crust variety to the carry-out boxed versions bigger than a bicycle wheel.
Many restaurants like to blow their own trumpets, and understandably so. They claim "the best scones in Scotland" or "winner of the best pie 2018" and I totally understand that.
I have a very good friend who has never been particularly bothered by food. He eats to live, in contrast to me who lives to eat. Sure, he likes what he likes and cottage pie with bubbling cheese on the top is his favourite but taking him to somewhere offering "fine dining" would simply not be appreciated.
Loch Tay holds a special place in my heart and I can't seem to stay away for long.
There are many places in Courier Country that I drive past regularly, wonder about, and never visit. This week, I didn't just gaze out of the window at the white building with the big tree painted on it on the A90, I actually stopped there for lunch.
A small pub on the High Street of Arbroath is not the first place I would look for a little slice of Greece. Yet there is was - beyond the facade of The Fisherman's Inn was a little room which held so many secrets and surprises, it left me lost for words. Well, almost.