ABSOLUTE therapy. That's maybe the best way to put it. Let me explain.
I left the house with a face of fresh thunder, worn down and beaten by the relentless woes of a long and unforgiving week. So, your typical sunny Wednesday afternoon.
Struggling to throw on the brain's out of office, and huffing and puffing at traffic on the fairly breezy drive out from Stirling, I tried to give myself a talking to. In vain.
I was pretty set on ruining the day for myself. Just for a change.
And then we arrived in Muthill – a town we had passed through a bunch of times – and the mind started to ease just a little. A few minutes down the road and the Coorie Inn beckoned.
Coming from the south (make sure not to miss the turn), we pulled in, parked up and walked in. I was struck by the stillness of it all; the clattering of traffic abated, and I took a breath.
We were greeted by our host – a man of genuine warmth – and shown to our room. Again, there was a stillness and calm that went down like a tonic.
Before I knew it was showered, downstairs in the most gorgeous lounge with a pint in hand and time to kill. The true hallmark of being 'away' away. Like, away.
I settled in as the staff members tended to other patrons. Their easy going nature was clear from the beginning, but I was also impressed by their obvious knowledge and experience. Sometimes... not often... but sometimes it IS nice to have a "try this" instead of a "what do you want". And when they are right, they are right. Take note.
As evening roused, the Coorie Inn's restaurant started to fill up. Even so, when busy, everything was so chill. I would imagine the kitchen being similarly calm. The whole place runs smoothly, infusing its guest with a palpable tranquillity.
And that's all before talking about the food. Talk about knowledge and experience. The Coorie Inn – formerly the Barley Bree – was taken over last year by Phillip Skinazi after he left his job of executive pastry chef at The Gleneagles Hotel.
So, yeah, there I am – knackered, a bit of a mood, with all this expectation and still they knocked it clean out the park. With each bite, I felt the week melt away. Dropped like a bag of bricks. And outside the doors of the Coorie Inn, they stayed.
Ok, so, first, if they offer bread, take the bread. It's from the Damsel Bakery along the road in Crieff and you should take the bread. If you want more – when you want more – it's only a short drive to the town the next day.
I am partial to a starter and we chose the 'Lamb Porchetta' and the 'Burrata'. Both dishes swirled with flavour, especially the lamb, and paired nicely with the claret.
For those who enjoy a wine with dinner, or before dinner, or after, do feel free to consult with the resident sommelier.
To follow, we ordered the 'Perthshire Pork' (fillet and belly, no less) and the 'Tweed Valley Beef' (fillet and short rib).
Both dishes were smooth and well accompanied. Portion sizes were right on the money. The taste could not be faulted and, again, with each bite, the weight of the world fell away.
Truly, there, in the quiet bustle of the restaurant, everything felt a touch lighter. And the escape went on long after the mains.
The afters, the pudding, the "we'll-have-a-look" and the "ah, why-not" is exactly what you are after when leaving the woes behind.
We went for the 'chocolate' and the 'sticky toffee' on which the staff were happy to offer an alternate ice cream flavour.
After dinner, we sat quietly in the pleasant din of the restaurant just soaking up the atmosphere. It is a gorgeous setting to while away a summer's evening, though I have my suspicions that winter will be a special affair. Plans to return are afoot.
Looking back now, I got from the visit more than just wined and dined, though the food and drink are worth the trip either way.
But there was something else. After about an hour on site, a switch had flicked. The long weeks dwindled into obscurity, I didn't spare a thought for the working days ahead – something you can't put a price on.
Normally, that sense of being away arrives all too late. The Coorie Inn has its own pace and you are welcome to enjoy it.
It was, very much, like therapy.
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