« press/customer feedback - two »
T he best: The Real Food Cafe
Call me unadventurous, but I tend to go local. My regular pub is five minutes away, I'm no stranger to the Chinese restaurant round the corner, and my favourite chippie along the road also does a knockout pizza. So it takes a lot to persuade me to go 100-odd miles for fish and chips.
Yet reports have been circulating of great fish suppers at the Real Food Cafe, which opened last spring. Its reputation is ironic because in Scotland you can't get much further from the sea, but my curiosity had been pricked and I decided to take a Sunday drive up the A82.
I'll be blunt the Real Food Cafe is no charming little bistro. Nor is it the purveyor of mung beans and wheatgerm suggested by its name. The premises used to be a Little Chef and many of the original features have been retained: bare brickwork, bare grey floor and bright lighting.
Food is mostly deep fried and served in cardboard cartons, and you either eat it with your fingers or plastic cutlery. There are nods to sophistication a plate of lemon wedges alongside the salt and pepper; a few salads on the menu; and venison sausages (with optional batter). But don't come here looking for a romantic candlelit dinner.
On the other hand, if you're a hiker, a biker, a drystane dyker, or you just want a hearty dose of carbs and protein on your way to Fort William, the Real Food Cafe may fulfil your heart's desire. There are facilities to repair bikes, water dogs and if you're a local cash cheques, and the atmosphere is cheerful and welcoming.
The seating mostly faces out through the large windows; and at the far end you can pry on feathered visitors to the bird feeders outside (an RSPB identification guide is attached to the glass). And yes, the poisson frites are quite something. But first, a word about the options.
There are puddings and sausages, pies and honey-glazed ribs all sourced from Aberfoyle Butchers, which is proud to claim the endorsement of Nick Nairn. There are good beef and lamb burgers from Strathfillan Wigwams of Crianlarich. There are mushy peas, tempura vegetables and onion rings.
And there will soon be pizzas, cooked in a wood-fired oven. But what finally catches the eye is a roasted half-chicken with herbs presumably the ones grown on site. As for the fish, it's supplied by Smales, the biggest independent merchant in the UK. We decide to order a large fish supper at £5.
As with all the fried food here, it is cooked in polyunsaturate-packed peanut oil and "large" is not the word.
This is a Hercules among haddocks a great slab of juicy white fillet, sealed in a remarkably crispy batter. It really is outstanding: plump and brimful of flavour, with an appealing bite to the flesh.
In its mighty shadow, the chicken tastes a little bland, despite the herbs. But the chips are tender and nicely browned, while the home-made onion rings are chunky and pretty tasty.
There are freshly squeezed fruit juices on offer, but a bottle of Schiehallion beer, from the Harviestoun Brewery in Clackmannanshire, proves a sturdy accompaniment for the fish.
There's a sense of good spirit about the Real Food Cafe, from the mission statement in the entrance way to the genial encouragement to dispose of your own leftovers. It certainly isn't pretentious, and you've got to approve of the local sourcing (even if Smales are based in Hull).
I shall continue sourcing locally myself, but next time I'm heading up the A82 I'll remember to bring a healthy appetite.