WHEN it stopped being a private house shortly after the Second World War (during which it had served as a mess for Spitfire pilots stationed at nearby Drem), Greywalls became the world's first country-house hotel. It remains one of the best examples of the genre in an increasingly crowded marketplace, and it works not because it has a spa, a helipad, gold taps or its own golf course (although it does overlook Muirfield), but primarily because it has a genuinely homely feel.
Once you get past the impressive entrance and the Gertrude Jekyll-designed gardens with their 2,000 rose bushes, you enter a cosseted world of low ceilings, wood panelling and enormous fireplaces in which logs crackle gently.
Much of the charm comes from the fact that, were the men in black suits to melt into the background, it would be easy to imagine Greywalls as a private house: there are few signs of tacky corporatism in this hotel, which is still run by the Weaver family, as it has been for the past 60 years. Designed by Sir Edwin Lutyens, it retains a down-to-earth grandeur that is simultaneously welcoming and reserved.
Greywalls has an impressive pedigree.
As well as counting three monarchs among its guests, it has had the cream of the golfing world stay during the Muirfield Opens. But for all its comfort, much of its reputation comes from its food, and our meal was well worth the 40-minute drive from Edinburgh.
After a gin in front of the fire, we started with an amuse-bouche of frothed parsnip cappuccino, served with crab crème fraîche and cucumber, which proved the perfect antidote to a dreich East Lothian night.
Head chef David Williams has built up a solid reputation, and it was immediately apparent that it was well deserved. My starter was fantastic: tinglingly rich parmesan risotto topped with gold leaf and infused with saffron, it was perfectly al dente and sublimely flavoursome.
My guest for dinner, Lucy, wasn't quite so overwhelmed by her terrine of pheasant and apple, which was a little bland.
But she went into paroxysms of pleasure when she popped the accompanying cromesquie (a new one to me too) into her mouth. If the terrine was run-of-the-mill, the cromesquie - basically molten foie gras encased in breadcrumbs - saved the day. Or at least the starter.
Her honey-and-lime roast quail was a good follow-up. The luscious but lightly flavoured meat that came off the pile of six perfectly roasted quails' legs was nicely offset by a deep rich truffle sauce and bean cassoulet.
Good as it was, it paled in comparison to my roast saddle of hare and braised venison.
It wasn't a huge portion, but it was beautifully cooked, gloriously tender meat. With a dark jus and red cabbage to keep the game company, it came close to perfection.
We rounded off the meal with an apple-and-raisin pie with mascarpone sorbet for me, and a Grand Marnier trifle with tangerine sorbet for Lucy.
Neither of us was bowled over: Lucy because she was disconcerted by trifle being served in a martini glass; and me because my charlotte was so lukewarm it would have been cold in five minutes' time. On the plus side, both the mascarpone sorbet (rich and creamy) and the tangerine sorbet (crisp and palate-cleansing) were excellent.
When Lucy asked whether I thought the meal was worth the money (the set menu is £45 a head, but our bill came to £135, once house wine, a couple of aperitifs, and a service charge of £15 were added), I paused momentarily before agreeing that it was.
Even better, though, is the lunch deal (two courses for £20), and the Winter Special, where dinner, bed and breakfast costs £95.
Greywalls, by Muirfield, East Lothian (01620 842144, ) out of pocket Dinner set menu (three courses and coffee) £45 Lunch (two courses) £20; (three courses) £25 tipping points Food 15/20 Service 14/20 Value 12/20 Setting 16/20
I often wonder just exactly what credentials restaurant critics have which allows them to express their views.
I use the word critic lightly in this instance, the recent reviews in Scotland on Sunday written by Mr Bath can't really give him the staus of a credible critic.
What would I like from a critic? Well, I would expect a degree of experience in the trade, hotels or restaurants. I would expect technical knowledge and an understanding of the produce used, to know when fresh local produce is being used or if the kitchen is tied to central purchasing agreements.
Skilled professionals can tell the difference.
A passionate foodie who has clear opinions and understands true hospitality. Frankly I don't see any of the latter in this review.
It annoys me greatly and I fight it, I realise this is just one persons opinion of one meal served in one night. Who cares? Needless to say I am a hotelier myself.
I would happily go head to head with a restaurant critic. I have been on the sharp end of one of AA Gills reviews but at least that was a well written interesting article.
I am a huge fan of Greywalls and know no one who would fault the food, of course these people actually know what they are talking about.
They can tell the difference between a quails leg and breast...
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