FOR the purposes of today’s review I’m assuming that when I mention the words “Nick” and “Nairn” your mind instantly flicks to images of tartan trews, seared fish and Ready Steady Cook. Remember? The fish, the searing, the tartan trousers? No, no, no, it was Gary Rhodes who had the spiky hair. 

Anyway, Nairn was, indeed is a proper celebrity chef. He had a Michelin star before Jamie and the rest bovver-booted their way into the whole thing. 

I say this because the man himself, we’re told, isn’t actually here tonight. He’s coming to cook in April or May, apparently, but we won’t be here in April or May, definitely.

So tonight we only have his recipes. And his squiggles on the frankly rather cheaply photocopied menu. Though at first – and I’ll hold my hand up here – I think those squiggles say: none. As in, we don’t have any. I mention this to the waiter and he says: no sir, that doesn’t say “none”. That says “Nairn”. Aha, says I. 

How come there are dishes on the menu such as Nairn’s mousseline of chicken that don’t have that squiggle beside them, I ask. 

“Weird, sir,” says our waiter, a laconic young dude. And we leave it at that.

Now, weird is pretty much how I would tonight describe the Hilton Hotel or Dunblane Hydro or the Double Tree or whatever of the many corporate labels you choose to use. 
Nairn’s restaurant is the hotel dining room, and a nice, large room on the second floor it is too. Tasteful colours, splashes of plaid here and there. But … it is the hotel dining room. And this is a hotel that seems to me to have rather lost – or discounted in a voucher frenzy – its identity.

Take this eight-seater table beside us – balloons, party T-shirts, one of the guests currently drinking from the water pitcher. “Oh no, Dad,” said my youngest as its occupants hove into view. “It’s the drunk ladies.”

It feels like we’re on a dinghy rocking in the lee of their party boat. They hoot and cackle and thoroughly enjoy themselves as we eat a little filo tart of Peterhead smoked haddock, lemon cream sauce – nothing to do with Nairn, this one – which is crunchy and light, tepid and completely shy on haddock, at our little table.

The staff float here and there with the sort of institutionalised boredom that has been the hallmark of the service throughout this frankly disappointing hotel so far while guests thunder in and out. 

We share pleasant haggis and potato croquettes on beetroot – these are Nairn’s – and we wonder – OK, I wonder – if prawn cocktail really is worth the £8.50 supplement, even though they are indeed superior prawns and there is a whiff of Nairn’s original Scottish cured salmon.

We’ve got neither bread nor the water we asked for and it’s extremely busy. It’s becoming like one of those airline flights when you suspect you’re the only people who aren’t here on a cut-price deal. 

Anyway, dinner improves with the arrival of a hunk of Scrabster halibut that is seared to carmelisation and lovely atop its herb bash. Twenty four quid with the supplement. 
I ordered the spiced duck breast which has a hint of Chinese five spice but not a hint of duck flavour, although what does nowadays given the global chickenisation of all major meat groups?

There are a couple of brambles on the plate, very Nick Nairn (but it is March), and an underseasoned but otherwise well-prepared rosti.

We have a burger – reassuringly untowered, tasting of finely minced beef and on a reasonable roll. The plate looks bare, though, and because of the weird pricing in here it’s a £20 burger, which is too much, even if Nick Nairn did design it.

We head off back to our room. There’s been nothing particularly wrong with the food itself, though it all seems a bit tired. 

But the setting? Not great tonight.

The Kailyard by Nick Nairn

Dunblane Hydro, Perth Road, Dunblane (01786 822551)

Menu Kinda modern Scottish in a Nick Nairny way with Scrabster halibut, Peterhead haddock and other tartan touches. 4/5
Atmosphere Blighted by whatever’s on in the hotel and we were there on party night. Too much like an impersonal hotel dining room. 2/5
Service Hard to put a finger on what’s wrong but it seems institutionalised. Our waiter was pleasant but there’s an air of indifference. 3/5
Price At £30 for three courses, not bad, but break it down and you could be paying £20 for a burger. Too many supplements on the price list. 3/5
Food It shows signs of Nick Nairn’s flair but also has the feel of being banged out from a remote kitchen in too high a volume. 7/10

Total 19/30