Food Reviews

What the food critics say...
Extract from: Scotland On Sunday Publication Date: 1st June 2008. By Richard Bath Annan other thing... I found myself back in this little market town less than ten miles from the border with England, this time to do some eating. I was there to review a restaurant that is, I was reliably informed, changing local residents' habits. No longer do they have to catch the train to Carlisle or drive to Moffat for a decent meal. In fact, people from as far afield as Carlisle, Moffat and Dumfries are now making the reverse journey. I wasn't sure what to make of the name, though: somehow Del Amitri just doesn't really inspire. Weegie warbler Justin Currie coined the name for his band because of "its utter meaninglessness" and the reaction of the two friends who knew I was about to visit was to ask why I fancied visiting a pizza and pasta joint in down-at-heel Annan. For the record, Del Amitri is many things: it is sited on the very spot where Robert Burns wrote 'The Deil's Awa Wi' Th' Exciseman', above the town's finest chippy which doubles as the favourite haunt of actress Ashley Jensen, the local girl of Ugly Betty and Extras fame. But despite occupying the first-floor space until recently filled by Pagani's trattoria, it is most definitely not an Italian restaurant. The interior - all stripped wooden floors, leather chairs and brown walls with ancient black-and-white photos of the town in Victorian times - is smart enough to constitute a definite statement of intent, but it's only when you see the menu that you know for sure this is something out of the ordinary. Such is proprietor-chef Martin Avey's dedication to using only fresh local produce that he changes the menu every week. This is one restaurateur Gordon Ramsay wouldn't think of clapping in irons. Avey's wife, Lisa, a cheery six-foot blonde, runs the front of house and proves intensely knowledgeable about the food on offer. Our starters soon arrived and hinted at a commendable attention to detail. Fiona's Greek salad was as nice as a combination of green leaves and feta cheese can be, but Les's smoked mackerel served on a salad of potato and wild watercress with a cockle-and-mussel salsa was a tremendous fusion of ingredients sourced locally and topped with a slab of silvery fish that reminds you just how incredibly good freshly caught mackerel can be. My pressed terrine of confit rabbit layered with savoy cabbage and encased in Parma ham with a vinaigrette featuring tea, sherry, leek and prune, was, in its own way, even more impressive. The subtle flavours of the moist rabbit went well with the Parma ham, but it was the remarkably nuanced and layered vinaigrette, a mix so complex it would have taken the boffins of Bletchley Park to decode it, that really set the dish apart. If our main courses were marginally less ambitious, they were equally successful. Les's pan-fried guinea fowl supreme served with fettuccine, broad beans, petits pois, baby onions and a light truffle sauce was solid enough and Fiona's chicken fricassee with mushrooms, pancetta, thyme, white wine and cream was a sophisticated take on the dish beloved of students everywhere. My incredibly tender pan-roast smoked mallard breast with a haricot bean puree, rissole potatoes and griottine cherry jus was a triumph on every level. Les rounded off with an impressive baked sherry and toasted hazelnut cheesecake which came with a glass of dark brown vintage Pedro Ximenez sherry that would have been worth the journey on its own. Fiona's impressive mango and crème fraîche mousse with a passion-fruit glace was the highlight of her meal. I opted for the warm ginger sponge with treacle sauce, largely because it was accompanied by cherry ice-cream for which I'm a complete sucker. If the ice-cream was unremarkable (connoisseurs should try the peerless version sold at the Drumlanrig Café up the road in Thornhill), the light sponge absolutely packed with ginger more than atoned. The quality of the ice-cream was a minor quibble, however. The standard of the food at Del Amitri was good, creeping up to outstanding at times and all at a significantly lower price than you'd pay in the central belt. I even quite liked Annan.
Extract from: The Herald Publication Date: 3rd March 2008. By Sara Valentin DUMFRIESSHIRE is something of a culinary desert where many chefs appear to have the creativity and flair of a jellyfish - not to mention a tendency to serve food that looks like it has been dropped from a great height onto the plate. There are obviously some exceptions scuh as The Linen Room in Dumfries, but it's a fine day indeed when a new restaurant opens and an even better day when it turns out to be one to which you would return. And when it's a place you would actually rate as exceptional - well, it's a miracle frankly. Del Amitri in Annan is such a place and it's quietly causing a stir in the shire. Despite its name, it is not a shrine to the eponymous pop-rock band who claim their moniker was invented for its meaninglessness. Nor is it yet another Italian as many people had predicted it would be because this used to be Pegani's, a pizza/pasta parlour of some repute. In fact, it turns out that this restaurant is simply about good food, serving seasonal and fresh local ingredients. If you need classification, Del Amitri could be put in the ‘fine dining' box, but there's nothing patronisingly confusing about the menu and nothing molecular about this gastromony. The food is served in a welcoming room with wooden floors, leather seats and dark brown walls adorned with pictures of nineteenth-century Annan. The staff exude a friendly efficiency that is never overwhelming. The place is run by a couple - the wife is front of house and the husband is in the kitchen where he changes the menu every week. Tonight, there is an astonishing array of choices created by someone is is obviously not scared to stick brave options on the menu. There's loin of rabbit, fricassee of veal and the more traditional rib-eye steak or red mullet. To start, I've opted for a soft poached duck egg on a bed of chive pasta and wild mushrooms while the husband has chosen rillette of hot and smoked salmon with citrus fruit. The thick oozy orange yolk coats the fresh buttery pasta comfortingly while the salmon is super-fresh and as light as a spring day. The portions are substantial and after this I feel comfortably replete - I don't know how Italians get used to pasta for starters. Then comes my confit of lamb, a meat so soft that I could eat it with a spoon, wrapped in parma ham to keep its shape. It's obviously been cooked for hours and I mean this in a good way. Puy lentils run through it and dauphinoise potatoes, carrot puree, baby turnips and broad beans complement the lot. The hubby tucks into his veal stew, served in a light cream sauce with spring vegetables and truffle mash. The French would call this a blanquette and it has echoes of Belgian waterzooi. Either way, it looks perfect, even more so thanks to the rosé wine we share. A plate of green beans tossed in salted butters arrives too, somewhat unnecessarily, but my husband picks at them like they are sweeties. Fit to burst, we still manage to order dessert and it's obvious here that chef has enjoyed himself. The presentation is superb and the taste even better - I have a baby pink rhubarb crème brulée served with the most wonderfully light lemon shortbread and a tower of poached rhubarb and fresh rapsberries. My husband declares his lemon sponge with clotted cream in a brandy snap basket with vanilla syrup "the best pudding he's had in months." Quite an endorsement for someone who has chocolate for breakfast and for whom a meal is not a meal without a sweet. And he's whippet thin, the traitor. The whole thing has set us back £54, remarkable for a meal so memorable. This is the kind of food that makes you want to spread the word and, after the good wine we've enjoyed, it's also the kind of experience that makes you want to sing. Robert Burns, who wrote The Deil's Awa Wi' Th' Exciseman on the very spot now occupied by the Del Amitri, would surely have appreciated that.