Murray Chalmers uncovers what it’s like to be a vegetarian or vegan when heading out for Sunday lunch.
It was such a beautiful sunny day in Perthshire and all we had to do was sit down to eat Sunday lunch, which should have been easy because all the key elements seemed to be in place.
Firstly, The Roost Restaurant and Grill looked hugely appealing online, with much talk of the indoor wood-burning oven, the sourcing of top-quality ingredients, dry aged beef and herbs freshly picked from the garden.
It sounded just what was needed after a brilliant but frenetic trip to London and all the pressures travelling now brings.
In truth I think I was still hungry after the British Airways inflight dinner two nights before – a packet of splintered throat- irritating, over-salted crisps, which seemed to be the worst thing to serve on a packed Friday evening flight where an untethered cough might prompt a frenzied rush to the emergency exit together with a chorus of Hail Marys, even from the ruddy faced over- seasoned gold card non-believers.
Thankfully I chose another but equally celestial type of Mary to quell any inflight nerves brought on by the threat of airborne viral transmission.
It might be my rock ‘n’ roll background but the ‘bloody Mary is a food’ route has always served me well, what with tomatoes being full of lycopene, which some believe helps cardiovascular issues and blood pressure.
Approaching 62, I need all the help I can get and thus I landed back in Scotland loaded with lycopene, happy, safe, and simply pulsating with antioxidants, thinking about the promise of a good meal at The Roost a few days later.
Elephant in the room
Everything here pointed to a good time: my first flight in a year safely done; a negative Covid test that morning; my mind buzzing with ideas from inspiring London restaurants; a pre-lunch walk in the beautiful Perthshire countryside had only whetted my appetite for the simple pleasures of a good meal with friends.
Yet who would have thought that Sunday lunch – a ritual that has signified home, hearth and hob for so many of us over the years – could have ended in such disharmony and disappointment amongst our small party of three?
But let’s start with the good bits and leave the elephant in the room alone for a while longer.
The Roost is an attractive space in Bridge of Earn, Perthshire – situated just across the road from Kilgraston, a boarding school for girls aged five to 18. The school, set in a mansion house in vast acres of parkland, is apparently Scotland’s only school with an on-site equestrian centre and I think this probably tells you all you need to know about their target audience.
In this I make no judgement, and nor should I – but we’re probably not talking families who need to rely on food banks here.
Looking around, I imagined this is the kind of catchment area where choosing a school is a bit like entering Cartier on New Bond Street – if you have to ask the price then you probably can’t afford anything in the shop.
At once I gleefully envisaged a Perthshire Marcia Blaine school for girls with the Brodie set now planning sedition against the government from the confines of a horse box – while their beleaguered parents drank Pomerol in The Roost in an attempt to ameliorate the pain of signing a big fat cheque for the school fees.
The Roost is a smallish space – unpretentious, simple and tasteful. It feels like an upmarket pub where nothing is going to frighten those horses.
Tables are well spaced and its worth saying that Covid protocols are followed perfectly; your temperature is taken at the door. The young staff are friendly and in control. This is a well-oiled machine.
The food
Sunday lunch here is £26 for two courses and £30 for three. A short list of specials was chalked on the wall, including a Chateaubriand which sounded enticing as it would have given a chance to try the much- vaunted wood grill.
But it turns out that Sunday lunch is a very tight edit of three starters, three mains and three puddings, plus a cheese option.
I saw at least one other table do as I did and try to order one of the special grills from the board and it would have been simpler if the restaurant had merely wiped these unavailable treats from view.
I love a short menu and was pretty happy with the limited choice available.
I chose a venison croquette with celeriac and mustard seed remoulade and a blackberry jus and it was sublime – the richness of the superb croquette cut through by the tartness of the blackberry and the wonderful remoulade. A really good starter and also one which was beautifully presented.
Andrew, visiting from London, chose the fishcake with rocket, radish and pickled cucumber salad, served with a shellfish sauce, and this too was nigh on perfect.
This is a chef who knows how to balance food, the pickles providing a lovely sharp counterpoint to the unctuous fishcakes. Again, the presentation was excellent.
I have a photo of my friend and neighbour David, captured accidentally while I was secretly photographing the restaurant interior as we all perused the menus. Looking at it later I could see the problem developing because his expression shows a man slowly realising that he’s backed into a corner.
David is vegetarian and strictly so; not the kind of vegetarian who eats fish, nor the kind of vegetarian who eats chicken. There are words for these people but the word isn’t vegetarian. David is a true vegetarian and thus he makes a very good dining companion, because in truth very few chefs in this part of the world can cope with him and his growing meat-free army.
This discussion has been a long time coming, because this issue isn’t going away.
According to a survey published in February around 14% of UK adults (7.2 million people) are following a meat-free diet. A further 12% (6.5 million people) intended to become vegetarian, vegan or pescatarian this year.
That’s a lot of people, and it’s safe to say that most of them won’t be eating beans on toast at home every night.
David moved here from London four years ago and I would say one of the biggest culture shocks for him has been the startling lack of good vegetarian food in this part of Scotland.
I don’t think it’s getting better; this week our friend Alvin flew in to visit from Spain and was heard saying yesterday “isn’t there anywhere here that does a good selection of fresh salads?”. Why is that so hard to find here?
In truth it’s hard to think of many places that bother, which is why I eagerly await the reopening of Gillian Veal’s Parlour Cafe in Dundee. Looking at many other places nearby it’s like Ottolenghi never happened.
So, on a menu limited to three starters and three mains David’s only ‘choices’ were a starter of roasted beetroot with walnut cream and sorrel, and a main of falafel, hummus, white cabbage slaw and pomegranate dressing.
This cost the same as Andrew’s prime sirloin of beef and my cod fillet.
How can this be so? It’s certainly not that the vegetarian ingredients were costly because we’re talking about beetroot, chickpeas and a few pomegranate seeds. There are no side dishes offered and so that’s your lot.
I’m truly sorry to have to write this about The Roost because it’s an accusation that could be levelled at the bulk of restaurants on Tayside – but here it just became amplified due to the limited menu choice on a Sunday.
The falafel were actually horrible – five claggy pellets fired on to a plate, over crisp, over salted and playing a one note tune that palled before the first 10 chews could break down the first mouthful.
The dryness of this dish was in no way helped by an afterthought smear of hummus – yes, more chickpeas – and pomegranates strewn so randomly that, for the first time in my life, I secretly cursed Nigella and her 2017 pomegranate infatuation.
These jewels added nothing to this dish apart from colour. This was student food from 1976 and to charge this price for it seems insulting.
My main course of cod fillet, crayfish crushed potatoes, black cabbage and mussel beurre blanc was very nice although I felt that the cod, never the most assertive of flavours, needed more heavyweight additions to lift it. It was well cooked though and the dish was good – just a little underwhelming for me.
Andrew did the best with his roast sirloin of beef, roast potatoes and vegetables, Yorkshire pudding and ‘natural gravy’ (I presume unnatural gravy is an Oxo cube).
This was a perfect Sunday lunch, all the tried and tested harmonious elements coming together to make a thing of joy. The beef was wonderful.
Of course, many would say that Sunday lunch is roast beef, and indeed most people around us were having that. But surely we now need to rethink this and offer more options to non-meat eaters?
Why not use that wood roast oven to roast some unusual vegetables? The River Cafe Cookbook Two has a whole chapter on such dishes.
That this chef can cook is indisputable.
The verdict
But, given our growing embracement of vegetarian and vegan lifestyles and the increasing threat of global warming, it’s no longer acceptable to assume that the fatted goose is fair game for us all, a comment Andrew made as David pushed the heavy falafel round his plate like a bored St Trinian’s schoolgirl dreaming of using food as a weapon.
By the time of dessert – an ace pineapple tarte tatin with coconut ice cream for me and a cheeseboard finally supplying some sustenance for David, we were frustrated with The Roost because this could have been so great.
But the vegetarian options were so lazy, so unseasonal and seemingly disconnected from the principle of food as pleasure, that I could only hope to return on a weekday, when the menu is more extensive. I’m not sure that David would be so forgiving though.
Information
Address: The Roost. Forgandenny Road, Bridge of Earn, Perthshire, PH2 9AZ Tel
T:01738 812111
W: www.the roost restaurant.co.uk
Price: Two-course Sunday lunch £26 and three courses for £30
Score:
- Food: 4/5 for carnivores and 1/5 for vegetarians
- Service 5/5
- Surroundings 4/5