Hard to swallow

Overpriced food from a stale menu can only mean a disappointing dinner at Mar Hall

This gothic palace on the banks of the Clyde is only half an hour from Glasgow but feels much further from the bright city lights than that. Commissioned in the 1820s by the 11th Lord Blantyre, the original building was designed by Sir Robert Smirke – who also built the British Museum – and its gardens were the work of Charles Barry, the architect best known for redesigning the Palace of Westminster. It is a dark, impressive, slightly forbidding place and a monument to the confidence of the early-Victorian era.

Erskine House, as it was then known, was converted into a hospital for wounded soldiers during World War One and continued to serve in that role until it was refashioned into a luxury hotel a decade ago. Despite the makeover, however, the place retains an institutional

Clockwise from top: The dining room has views of the Clyde from the large windows; roast loin of Scottish lamb with wild mushroom and spinach rosti; seared king scallops with bisque foam and pea puree; cranachan souffle with heather honey ice cream.

air – you sense a hint of disinfectant in the atmosphere, and it lacks the gothic extravagance and plush elegance you might expect from a place boasting five-star facilities.

Even the massive oak-panelled dining room cannot escape this mildly disconcerting sensation. It is, all too evidently, a hotel dining room – albeit one with some fine views of the silvery Clyde. But still, somehow, it is less welcoming and warming than you think it should be.

Detail matters, especially when you’re reaching for the stars. On our recent visit, for instance, service was well intentioned but so casual it crossed the border into offhand. When their attention was finally caught, the staff were perfectly friendly but also unable to warn diners that certain dishes on the menu were not in fact available.

Still, onwards and upwards and all that. Scottish lobster ravioli (so labelled in case you forgot to assume that it would be Scottish) with a seared brace of small scallops and a pea purée (£10.95) delivered exactly what it promised, and that was fine. Similarly, the beef carpaccio (£9.25 and also Scottish) was just as it should be, although the advertised basil mousse with which it was paired was actually a thick, cloying paste. Meanwhile, toasted brioche with wild mushrooms, onion marmalade and a poached egg (£7.50) had for some reason escaped breakfast and been given licence to turn up for dinner. This, I feared, was an indication that not everything on this menu would add up.

That pattern continued as the main courses arrived. A mushroom, spinach and asparagus Wellington arrived looking like a peely-wally Gregg’s sausage roll, and if it tasted better than that it still seemed desperately poor value at £16.50, not least since t he (unlabelled) asparagus had presumably been flown in from South America.

The fillet of sea trout (£17.25) was well cooked but accompanied by a strange clam and tinned-tomato chowder that muddled far more than it enhanced the main event. Meanwhile, smoked potato mash was excellent, but unfortunately overpowered the delicate taste of the roasted poussin (£17.95) it was designed to complement. The menu listed ‘broad beans’ as an accompaniment and, as there were three of them, this was technically true.

Elsewhere, herb-crusted lamb loin (£20.95), with a spinach and mushroom rosti and puréed butternut squash, would have been thoroughly acceptable had it not been grievously overcooked. Mercifully, the honey-glazed duck breast (£17.95), which was matched with puy lentils, parsnip purée and baby radishes, was deemed entirely satisfactory.

Puddings offered a choice of tried-andtested favourites: sticky toffee pudding, crème brûlée, vanilla cheesecake, a Bakewell tart and, of course, a dark chocolate fondant (all £6.25 each). Of these, the crème brûlée was excellent, the sticky toffee pudding acceptable and the Bakewell tart disappointing, not least on account of the pastry being underdone. But, though better than the main courses, this selection still seemed uninspired, almost as though the kitchen had run out of ideas.

In fact, that was our overall impression of a restaurant that is not quite one thing or the other and, as a result, scarcely manages to be anything at all. It wasn’t good enough to be luxurious and it was too expensive to be good value. A vexing and disappointing evening, then. But that’s the problem with expectations: they are so very easily dashed.