The Dear Leader and I spent a few days in Barra last week. Well, we arrived Monday and left Saturday. The people were lovely, those working in our hotel very helpful and friendly. But our culinary experiences were decidedly mixed.
This is an island that sends truckloads of fish and shellfish to the mainland, and to Spain and France, just about daily, weather permitting, yet not a crab, lobster, cockle or mussel was to be seen on the menu of four different establishments. Crab being absent maybe was down to seasonality, but not so lobster or the bivalves. Like the décor in our hotel (big on brown) and the offerings of the Craigard Hotel, the one next doorish to ours, that seems to reflect a 1970s mindset. The Craigard's menu included prawn cocktail, breaded mushrooms, Scotch broth and a few other dishes entirely lacking in inspiration, straight out of the Berni Inn cookbook 1973. Like the journalists of the little missed News of the World, we made our excuses and left, happy to eat again in The Castlebay.
The Castlebay was far better (with a good beer list, hurrah), but still needing some oomph. Hats off to them for our last dinner there, huge scallops simply cooked with pancetta and served with (our addition) chips and salad. Scallops also featured at the best, brightest and most imaginative place (by far) we tried, The Café Kisimul, which serves Punjabi cuisine, with simple pasta dishes as the alternative for those who shrink from spice. Scallop pakoras were fab, and the prawn bhuna a delight. Sadly out of season it only opens Fridays and Saturdays, or we would have returned. And they played Doobie Brothers, The Doors, The Beatles and similar relaxing and enjoyable stuff, instead of the bloody loop of There Was a Soldier, a Flamin' Scottish Soldier, to be heard elsewhere. And they acknowledged the existence of colour, with blue walls and bright artwork.
Barra is out of the way, no doubt, but that probably means those who travel for pleasure there will be better off and with better educated palates than average. People who would happily pay premium prices for fresh local lobster and crab, simply presented or done with cheffy cleverness. Even frozen local crab used in crab cakes or soup would have been welcome. Walkers (even on the rainy Tuesday we got our hike in) enjoy filler-uppers, so the steak and ale pie one night and haddock and chips another were pleasant enough, and well cooked, but not the sort of fare that would make real food lovers want to return. It doesn't have to be Michelin-starred stuff (in fact, I'd rather it were not), but make the most of great local resources for goodness' sake. As an example of that unadventurous attitude, what well-run Scottish hotel bar has just three or four single malts?
No comments:
Post a Comment