David Wilson Interview

Melanie Henderson talks to restaurateur David Wilson, one of the most celebrated champions of Scotland's natural larder.

He says he is "something of an old man of the woods, these days," and yet he is still lauded by the doyens of the food industry and venerated by Scotland's freshest, youngest chefs.

His ethos is "keep it simple," his attitude a million miles from the pyromaniac dictators of London's most notorious kitchens. While they throw eggs and expletives at hapless underlings, he has five "great lads" to help him out. While they might be designing some multi-flavoured modern art, he'll probably be busy making sure his local lobster tastes as fresh-from-the-sea as it should. If he is an old man of the woods, he is certainly one of the wisest and, as he will tell you himself, there are plenty of good things to be found in the woods, and indeed in other places close to home.

This morning, as it happens, a basket of wonderful rhubarb has landed - courtesy of a gardener up the road - on David Wilson's doorstep at The Peat Inn, his restaurant in the heart of the Fife countryside. "I thought 'Well, we have to do something with that,'" he laughs, and goes on to describe the creation of a luscious lunchtime pudding involving stewed rhubarb, apples in batter, a sweet soup of spices and cinnamon and home-made vanilla ice-cream. "Experience told me it would work, and it did," he says happily.

It is on such simple - yet exquisite - pleasures that his reputation has been built. Where others might see difficulty, to him the best solutions are plain. "No problem" is a phrase he uses a lot, and perhaps it's his amiable approach that has helped win him such distinction. It's 3pm and his stomach is rumbling. But even if he has not yet had lunch, it's no problem to sit and chat for another hour. Chefs eat lunch at four, he tells me later, although his wife, Patricia, whom he has not seen since breakfast, has already been on the phone wondering where he's got to.

Most famed for his inventive use of native produce, he has never seen it as anything other than common sense. "People keep asking me about that as if it was some kind of brilliant idea! I've just always thought that people who don't do it aren't seeing what's in front of them. It's just buying the herbs or vegetables or fish that's around you. Obviously, the closer you are to the source, the better. It was really no big intellectual plan."

Nonetheless, it is a subject on which he will enthuse at length. "When we started out, we knew that we had that kind of potential around the place - but through a combination of ignorance and inexperience we probably didn't exploit it properly. There weren't all the little contacts either - people who pick mushrooms and people who grow things for us. We built that up gradually.

"Also, the whole thing has changed completely. It was difficult then to go into St Andrews and buy a courgette! In those days it was potatoes and turnips and carrots. Now we have a network of small businesses and individual people who grow things, shoot things and catch things for us.

"A lot of people still don't use this produce we have in Scotland and it's a real shame because the produce is king as far as I'm concerned. As a chef, I don't have to do very much to it at all. It's a case of getting it from the kitchen onto the plate as quickly as possible - and it doesn't have to be much more expensive.

"I get people saying things like 'That halibut was absolutely wonderful,' and literally all I've done is put some heat on it!" Fillet of halibut on vegetable risotto with yellow pepper sauce? No problem.

He and Patricia came to Peat Inn, the village after which the old coaching inn is named, in 1972, having been on the lookout for suitable premises for some time. "We didn't want a city place although we thought of somewhere outside of Glasgow or Edinburgh. But we couldn't really afford it at the time. We liked this location and we knew it was close to Dundee and St Andrews and not all that far from Edinburgh. We knew we could start there and then in a very simple way and there was room for expansion."

Over the years, epicures have continued to extol his fare and the elegant - yet thoroughly unpretentious - dining experience has caused critics from far and wide to rave unashamedly. And the awards have been plentiful - among them a place as chef laureate of the British Gastronomic Academy, bestowed in 1986.

In 1987, eight luxury residences were built on site to allow guests the option of going from sweet course to slumbers in just a few steps. "That was something we had to do as our customer base had got far wider. We found people were having to stay in B&B's around about. It makes life a lot easier and it's opened up a different market."

So now you can experience the six-course special "tasting menu" (£42) without worrying you are too full to move very far. And you'll also get a Peat Inn breakfast, including everything from fruit compote and yoghurt to cured Scottish venison, cheese and hot croissants. Each room has all mod cons, along with furnishings chosen by Patricia.

Publicity has flourished and food fashions have come and gone - but while the Peat Inn has kept abreast of changing tastes, one thing has remained the same.

"The central part of any dish, to me, is Scottish produce. You can add Chinese spice or Thai flavourings, but it is fundamental that we use what we have here and keep to what we do best - which is beef, lamb, shellfish and so on.

"In the early years we had radical changes because we started off very simply. We've changed to a finer type of cooking in more recent times and we've maybe introduced nuances from the Mediterranean and flavours from the Far East. Sauces are different - people like lighter food and healthier food. We hardly use any cream nowadays - I know how much we order and there's been a huge drop in the quantities! These are all things we've to be aware of. It's not a case of pure fashion. People can't cope with all that rich food any more because they're not doing the same manual work."

The proof, of course, is in the eating, and not many would find it difficult to get through herb salad with prawns, scallops, roast peppers and olives; perhaps followed by roast rack of spring lamb with celeriac puree and thyme flavoured sauce; rounded off by iced lemon parfait with orange sorbet and orange sauce.

Modern influences are also evident in dishes such as julienne of pigeon breast in a confit of spiced pork. But, he says, subtlety is the key when it comes to adding a dash of a different culture. "I'm not against people introducing some aspects of these styles of cooking - but you have to be careful. Chilli, for instance, can have the effect of masking the natural flavour of a delicate dish."

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