This may be first honest review of Scotland's most hyped restaurant

You’re going to have to make up your own minds on TimeSpirit, the clunkily-named but megabucks restaurant, sprinkled with the Michelin magic of the Roca Brothers and opened in the staggeringly-expensive-to-build Macallan centre in Aberlour.

I say this because I, frankly, wasn’t that blown away by the six-course lunch that felt over in a few mixed and occasionally strange mouthfuls, while my dining companions and subsequently one of my chums were impressed.

Could it have been the whisky, I pondered. All the rest having washed their meal down with lashings of the magical stuff including one pal who messaged, “Will defo get a Michelin star within a year”, and was, I suspect, still fully on it.

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So... what is it like? Well, if Dr No did visitor centres, they would all look like this, swoopy shapes, soaring ceilings, burnished trimmings that whisper wealth, acres of dizzying interior space and an endless turfed roof that’s sort-of blended into the landscape.

Is it a cathedral? Is it an airport? Or is it where James Bond picks up his goofy secret sporran that-turns-into-a-missile? Answers on a business card. In invisible ink please.

I’ll reveal this: it’s actually where they make whisky in the 21st century. Ooft. And Aberlour down there right at the nearby River Spey? Beautiful.

Now, I’ve been to El Cellar De Can Roca in Girona and had the £250 (then) lunch when it was the best restaurant in the world and enjoyed every damn minute of the endless shenanigans that were the culinary equivalent of The Eagles and Mamma Mia and the Superbowl taking place. In your mouth. Simultaneously. With a bit of mental André Rieu thrown in too. This? Different. Darker, plainer, more Scottisher. Somehow therefore bleaker.

For a start, they talk much more about whisky than they do about food. Ahh, the 15-year-old sir, yadayada, how did it compare to the 16?

Secondly, that whisky is in everything. Those oysters they brought in a wicker basket for Course Four? Check. Steaming in The Macallan as the waiter talked, served with an oyster and seaweed soup. Clever, yes, very clever. I really admired them. Pleasant too. Not sure I would have them again though.

Likewise the Barley. Much, much cleverness. A beautiful bowl, a puddle of brown barley looking like mince, wispy wafers to break up, an egg yolk too, gone in 60 rather sour, rather strange, seconds. Brilliant? In a world where barley is all we have to eat: undoubtedly. Otherwise? I’m getting Pot Noodle.

The Macallan restaurant is stunning (Image: free) Yet there is a plate of beef tenderloin, whisky marinated too, a little mound of (was it chestnut) crumb, and Macallan Mustard which is just damn wonderful. Olé. The meat mind-bendingly tender, the dry crumb, more a crumble in fact, just right to slide it through, dink into the moutard and then enjoy.

And wonderful was a teeny, exquisitely prepared, salad; phytoplankton mousse (explained but still got no scoobie why), seaweed, crisp and vibrant herbs from the “garden over there behind that wall” as our waitress took us through it. Cold, invigorating botanic textures, hitting warm moist mousse and just somehow floating it all to a special place.

On reflection: I enjoyed almost two thirds of the amuse bouche. An okay, doughy micro pastrami sandwich (New York), a very good, tangy, satisfying, ephemerally light yet crisp Coronation Chicken (London) and a third and forgettable, actually already completely forgotten, one.

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Then there was dessert. What? Already? Yes.

Get this. We pay our own way on The Herald. So the press launches, the free lunches and the big money PR guff are all ignored.

Instead, I messaged my pal Gibbo, who messaged our pal Goffy, who messaged The Big Bopper. And Gibbo booked for lunch. Why, I will ask much later, did we book bloody lunch when dinner would have had more courses, cost a mere £30 more, and we’re having to stay up here overnight anyway? Ummm, comes the reply. Or was it a splutter. I forget.

In fact, lunch is good value at £60 but feels too light, I will insist, as we embark on the final course: From Cask To Chocolate. Groan. Mousse, whisky chocolate ice cream, gold bits, crunchy bits, cakey stuff. And all while looking super-pretty. I liked this. Not a lot. But I did like it.

And that, for me anyway, kinda sums up this restaurant.

Menu: Epic Scottish distillery meets the world-famous Roca brothers to produce a Michelin-esque mix of earthy Scottishness and relentless whiskiness in around six plates. Different. Mostly interesting. 4/5

Price: Frankly, £60 for this level of lunchiness, given the standard, is good value. But not enough oomph. Go for the dinner. More courses. Not much more cost. 4/5

Service: They love The Macallan and they’re very pleasant, very professional and very good at their jobs. 5/5

Atmosphere: The Macallan Centre or Distillery or whatever it is called is a must-see. Not sure the actual dining area, which seems open to meandering tourists, is separate enough to feel special. 4/5

Food: This is super-clever cooking of a very high standard. The beef dish was fabulous, the planktony thing too. A little bit too focussed on show than go. Well worth a try. 8/10

Total 25/30

TimeSpirit

Macallan Distillery

Easter Elchies,

Aberlour

AB38 9RX 01340 318000

Opening: Thursday to Saturday 1200-2pm; 7pm-8.30pm and Sunday 1200-2pm.

Ron Mackenna reviews restaurants for The Herald. He always pays his own way and never announces his presence at the restaurant. He also never accepts invitations or freebies – which is why you can trust his reviews.