OH ... that bread, the woman at the table across from us sighs out loud to her companion, nodding towards a still warm slice of sourdough. Hand-churned butter melts into it, honey (from the chef’s neighbour’s hive apparently) dribbles across it. The shining malted crust of the rest of the loaf sits regally on pure white linen. 

“It’s absolutely incredible,” she adds. We snigger. We’ve been in this movie before, having eaten in this very dining room, at this very table, say 15 months ago and fallen head first into that very same bear trap. So be warned, if you ever pitch up here. 
And I’ll say this right now: I definitely recommend you do. This is the crack-cocaine of sourdough. So potent, irresistible and downright malty delicious that last time, Debs and I ate a whole damn loaf – right in the middle of a £300 meal. Oops. 

And we’re about to do it again. Though tonight’s bill for two will easily top £400, just nudging under the 500 bangers I once madly paid for lunch at the then world’s best restaurant: El Celler De Can Roca. Ooft. Can any single-Michelin-star meal really be worth this much money? 

Well: all evening, immaculate Gallic waiting staff will flit in and out, oozing charm, bearing incredible dishes; the product of mad, fevered imaginations and hours upon hours of kitchen donkey work. 

That incredible looking cocoa liver raspberry thing, covered in a meadow of micro flowers; the spoots (that’s Scattish for razor clam, says the American behind us – in from Gleneagles) in the shortest lightest pastry; the puffy, chewy, cheffy take on a tattie scone with Wagyu beef; truffles (Australian), a dish I mentioned last time. Caviar sir, says the maitre d’, coaxing a spoonful onto the back of my hand. Awkward, but here goes: salty, savoury, fishy – mmm.

And we’re still eating the bread, having twice had to put slices down to try new dishes, when the lobster three-ways floats in. A knuckle toasted sandwich, buttery, seared – blindingly white claw meat packed in. Then there’s that crazy jewel-like mini lobster that looks like a table decoration but is crunchily, savourily, made-entirely-from-lobster delicious, with a will-be-scraped-from-the-plate dollop of lobster ketchup too.  
And now – ta-raa! – here comes the tail itself, seared on a barbecue, blackened in tiny parts yet still juicy, pert, moist and there’s a tiny flagon of some devilish concoction of whisky and lobster juices to wash it down. 

The Herald: The Glenturret exteriorThe Glenturret exterior (Image: Gordon Terris)

We’ve already had monkfish, almost marbled in its consistency, green strawberries, white asparagus, Japanese spicing. Honestly? The list of ingredients in this meal is endless. I will say to the manager, Emilio Munoz Garcia (hey, he gave me his card) that I’ll email and get the lowdown, but realise they alone would fill this column and still march into the TV pages. 

And the atmosphere? Calm, refined, elegant – there’s so much distance between the tables (and so much space on them) I wonder out loud how they make any profit in here; and everything – the lights, the tableware, the serving dishes, the crystal having the imprint of the French high fashion house, Lalique. 

Yes, much of the above food we had last time. Yes, because consistency is the god of restaurant food, it is absolutely as impressive as before. But this is new: Herdwick lamb; a thick, delicate, pink saddle barbecued too; the lightest savouriest, most-delicious mini ribs with some tangy lemony bush of herbs; the cured neck salami – all arriving triumphantly in the middle of the meal. 

Somewhere among all this, we had a hand-made ravioli on a spoon with a soupy interior (the only thing I could take or leave). There were buttermilk pancakes, pike roe, dulse, gooseberries, a sparklingly fresh fruit dessert with a savoury herb sorbet and right now, outside in the yard of this atmospheric old distillery, as we eat on, the sun shines. And a river really runs through it. Just perfect.  

Menu: Endlessly inventive, Michelin-magicked, Scottish sourced. Fizzes with fun and talent. 5/5

Service: seems to be the same calm, extremely professional, warm and charming staff they had 15 months ago - that speak volumes nowadays. 5/5 

Atmosphere: Beautiful Perthshire, a picturesque distillery, a French fashion house and an extremely talented chef. Positively drips with atmosphere. 5/5

Price: Yes, it’s very expensive at £190 per head, but think of it as a culinary Champions League final, a Rolling Stones Concert and it makes sense. And this place should have two Michelin stars. 5/5

Food: The lobster three ways is rightly now famous, the Herdwick lamb with the barbecue twist new and interesting. It’s really just sensation after savoury sensation. Worth a visit if even just once. 10/10 

Total: 30/30

The Glenturret Lalique Restaurant
Glenturret Distillery
The Hosh Crieff
PH7 4HA y
Tel: 01764-656565