Relax down at the farm

At Errichel in Perthshire, sustainability and luxury effortlessly combine, finds Andy Shipley

Perched on a hillside, barely out of earshot from the thunderous waters of the Birks of Aberfeldy that inspired Robert Burns, is Errichel in Highland Perhshire. Meaning “on the wood” and set in some 600 acres of coarse farmland, this luxury B&B and restaurant is a labour of love for husband and wife team Becky and Paul Newman and their three children.

As we kick the smattering of snow from our boots in the cosy converted farmhouse reception, chef Paul explains their ethos.

“It’s all about field to plate,” he says, pointing to two recently awarded AA rosettes. Just avoid calling them farmers: “I think that would be an insult to thousands of years of farmers,” laughs Becky.

Rather, the couple are custodians of the land, only rearing what livestock they need and using what local produce they can. The result is an almost self-sufficient hideaway offering relaxed indulgence within striking distance of the Highlands.

So how did a London-born chef and ex-pat end up here?

The story begins nearly 20 years ago with Becky’s parents, Alastair and Iris, swapping manic Hong Kong for a then derelict outpost towering above the Tay. “My dad was a civil engineer – he built the bridge to Hong Kong airport,” says Becky, feeding flapping Cayuga and India Runner birds on the glistening duck pond.

“This was a swamp when we came – full of horse manure,” says Becky, 39. “A lot of what you see, they did with their own hands,” she adds.

Becky and Paul moved here in 2010 – building a bond with the land and embracing the slow food movement, the gastronomic activism which sets out to defend traditions and a more sedate pace of life.

Homage to the movement pervades Errichel, from the Shetland cattle nibbling hillside turf to a snorting black boar – all breeds are carefully selected with efficiency in mind.

So how does Becky square rearing meat for the table with her own vegetarianism?

“Because I live on a farm, someone else is going to produce meat, so if we’re going to do it, the animals will get support, protection and live long, natural lives,” she says.

Crunching through frosty heather on a hillside above the farmhouse, it becomes clear Becky’s duty of care goes beyond livestock.

She points out the site of an 18th century shieling – a summerhouse where families would spend the warmer months making cheese.

Further on and we stand amid

a millennia old settlement. Plans are afoot to bring a group of young archaeologists into the hills to help excavate the site – preserving any remains for future generations.

Back in Errichel’s welcoming hunting lodge-style sitting room, the trinkets from Paul and Becky’s global travels are everywhere – from Far Eastern ornaments to North African lanterns. Rooms are a mix of selfcatering cottages and spacious, slantroofed cabins – inviting cocoons of farmhouse furnishings.

The local first policy extends to predinner cocktails, made up by front of house manager, Fiona Sloan. A blueberry and plum martini bursts with the fruit from a neighbouring polytunnel – blast frozen at harvest to preserve freshness.

Into the roundhouse Thyme restaurant and the table is lit up by one of Paul’s signature starters – rubyred salmon cured in beetroot.

The mid-meal palate cleanser is a deliciously rinsing whisky sorbet – made with nearby Dewar’s.

Paul’s policy is to serve only deer shot on the farm by a gamekeeper –

Clockwise from main: view of Errichel farm and the Thyme restaurant; one of the bedrooms; inside Thyme

it makes for a venison of magnified succulence. A vegetarian tagine, another legacy of Paul’s adventures as a hotel chef in Africa, further encapsulates the slow food ethos.

“Everybody knows more about food now than they used to,” says Paul, 52. “There are more TV programmes and more books – people want to know where their beef comes from.”

The road from North London lad and corporate chef to slow food stalwart has meant side-stepping a few obstacles – some more fierce than others. “Last year I got cornered by the bull,” recalls Paul. “It was like arodeo.iwastryingtogethimina trailer and he obviously didn’t want to get caught.” Fortunately, with the help of a neighbouring farmer, Paul prevailed, just.

So what of future plans for Errichel? Paul hopes to market some of their homemade jams and chutneys while expanding the meat pack business that counts former Chancellor Alistair Darling among its regulars.

A cookbook encouraging others to embrace Errichel’s ethos is also in the pipeline, that and giving the bull a wide berth. ■

The table is lit up by one of Paul’s signature starters – ruby-red salmon cured in beetroot

Rooms at Errichel (errichelhouse andrestaurant.co.uk, 01887 820850) cost around £120 per couple per night B&B, depending on the season