This year, it would appear that I have drawn the short straw in the lottery of who volunteers to write a Father’s Day restaurant review.
It is not normal in our household to make a fuss over the fella on Father’s Day, as I firmly believe that it’s over-commercialised twaddle.
I guess he should be deciding where we eat, but as he is a predictable man with simple tastes, his suggestion of another lamb madras gets instantly vetoed (I’ve just reviewed two curry houses).
However on a recent father-daughter bonding experience, where two of my family headed skyward at The Scottish Gliding Centre near Kinross, the daring duo rather bravely decided to book in for a pre-flight meal.
Thankfully they both came back down to earth from their aerial adventure in one piece, and with their dinner intact, both raving equally about the gliding experience and their meal at The Court House in Kinross.
So we decided we should revisit, just the two of us.
Although I have to point out the fella and I are not technically married, we have been together for some 30 odd years which is also something worth celebrating, especially with the UK divorce rate estimated at 42 per cent and over 100,000 British couples getting a divorce in 2019.
When we reached our destination I noticed that there is a police station right next door, so if we did end up having a domestic quarrel about ignoring his madras wishes, help is at hand.
The interior space is light and airy and the mismatched furniture gets my shabby chic seal of approval. There is even a ‘Join us on Father’s Day’ message emblazoned on the chalkboard on the wall to get us in the mood. So far, everything is perfectly themed.
Although we are early for our booking, the friendly staff are unfazed and we get our choice of seats, settling into a booth near the Georgian arched window.
The exposed stonework shows the scars of bars from its previous legal incarnation, and if these walls could talk, I’m sure there would be lots to say.
The Court House offers a basic lunch menu, so we opt for starters of bruschetta, which features a slice of sourdough toast covered in sun blushed tomatoes with buffalo mozzarella on top, with a sprinkle of rocket and a zig zag of balsamic jus to complete the plate (£5.50).
The other option was a feta and green olive salad with delicate slivers of red onion, half moon cucumber slices, halved cherry tomatoes all finished with an ice cool mint dressing and crisp cubes of sourdough croutons (£7).
It’s not complicated grub, but what is noticeable is that it is freshly assembled, well presented and the minty dressing is devilishly moreish.
With no complaints from either diner we dive into the main courses.
As the venue has gone to the trouble of installing a traditional brick Italian style pizza oven, it would be churlish not to sample both the V3 pizza and the El Pollo options.
If you choose your table wisely you can watch hungrily as flames lick the crust, keeping a close eye on them as they cook.
My vegetarian pizza arrived piping hot on a chopping board with a pizza wheel ready to slice. A crisp bubbled base with semolina grains underneath made for a most satisfying crunch.
There was also just the right amount of topping of red and yellow peppers, red onion, mushroom, goats cheese as well as mozzarella, spread to the edge on top of a tangy tomato sauce.
As the pièce de résistance rocket leaves and pesto oil were carefully placed on top of the pizza at the last minute and wilted their way to the table (£13).
The V.I.P., or very important pa, opted for the El Pollo roast chicken version. Hearty meaty mouthfuls adorned the pizza along with sliced peppers, chorizo, mozzarella, red onion and hot chilli.
Finished this time with rocket leaves and smoked paprika mayonnaise (£13), the fella was enraptured. We also ordered side orders of skinny fries (£3) and sweet potato wedges with garlic mayonnaise dip (£4.50).
Sir washed down his lunch with a pint of golden Ossian ale (£5) whilst as the designated driver I opted for the sparkling Mr Fitzpatrick’s vintage cordial, elderflower and apple soft drink (£2.60) which was very refreshing.
Instead of dessert which I was a bit sorry to miss out on, as the airborne allies had enjoyed sorbet, we ordered a couple of cakes.
A dense moist carrot and date cake for me and for his nibs, a lemon drizzle cake which is his favourite, both very reasonably priced at £1.90 each.
Our hunger satisfied the fella then asked what had been my favourite part of the meal, I couldn’t resist saying, Him. Which made us both laugh uncontrollably.
The Verdict: No need for the decree nisi at The Court House this time, so I guess we are good for another 30 years of cohabitation and if he’s lucky I might treat him next Father’s Day.