Restaurant review: THE PEAT INN

David Wilson, who founded the Peat Inn, was way ahead of his time. Back in the 1980s, long before it became fashionable to talk about local sourcing, Wilson was already doing it. But despite his active policy of supporting the suppliers and raw materials on his doorstep, Wilson - a confirmed Francophile - had the wisdom to eschew the Taste of Scotland trap that saw chefs ladling Drambuie and Glayva into everything in a desperate bid to create some spurious Scottish identity.

Wilson put the Peat Inn, essentially a couple of cottages in the middle of nowhere, on the culinary map. But there was always the worry that without him, the Peat Inn could not be sustained.

Enter my now Sunday Herald fellow columnist, Geoffrey Smeddle, then at the helm of the Conran-owned Etain in Glasgow's Princes Square, to step into Wilson''s shoes.

Here there was an instant match. Smeddle had not been heading up an effing and blinding Gordon Ramsay-style, testosterone-fuelled kitchen, but a calm, professional team keenly focused on the business of sending out great food. He shared Wilson's respect for the natural rhythm of the seasons, enthusiastically showcasing short-lived seasonal ingredients.

To be honest, I have been scared to visit the Peat Inn just in case for some random reason, the Wilson-Smeddle transition hadn't worked. I needn't have worried. The Peat Inn is in safe hands. The menu reads well, that is to say I love the logic that underpins the selection, and it tastes just as good as it sounds.

We began with the wild mushroom consommé and the warm lobster salad. They both offered a brilliant juxtaposition of textures. The fleshiness of the sweet, warm Anstruther-landed lobster contrasted with lightly cooked winter vegetables dressed "à la Grecque" (in an oily marinade). A black olive dressing provided a complementary salty note. The consommé - a glistening model of clarity - was lent interest by the addition of a small dice of raw vegetables and succulent quarters of fresh baby ceps. The liquor itself was exquisite, pungent with fungi and boldly seasoned with sage and thyme. Floating in it were two silky tortellini filled with goat's cheese and tarragon. These were faultless dishes, impeccably seasoned and thoughtfully balanced.

When it came to main courses, every one appealed. We were tempted by a brace of quail with a Jerusalem artichoke fricassée (that seasonal thing again), but had to try the main dish on the fixed price (£32) menu, a succulent braise of pig's cheek yielding rich, meaty, engagingly gelatinous nuggets that came with an inspired sauce made with bitter Seville orange (a nod here to the French sauce Bigarade more commonly served with duck), and a velvety parsnip purée. Give me this sort of meat over fillet steak any day. The other main course, chosen from the à la carte menu, was a further tour de force. A luscious, crisp-skinned fillet of red mullet came set on a floury white bean purée, flanked by dark-fried black olive potato gnocchi, and some of the first new-season purple-sprouting broccoli - all this encircled by an intense bouillabaisse sauce. Again, everything I want from a dish: satisfying but not heavy, full of taste and textural contrasts, every mouthful interesting and worth eating.

Proust, as we know, was keen on his madeleines, but I cannot resist their more robust sibling, the financier - the classic French cake made with ground almonds that is served warm, and baked to produce crusty extremities and a squidgy middle. Geoff Smeddle's were exquisite and nicely set off by a zingy passionfruit curd and a deep, dark chocolate mousse with the consistency of very stiff mayonnaise.

I was also staggered by just how much nuttiness he had packed into the hazelnut croquant that sandwiched the same lovely curd and accompanied a fragrant lychee mousse and sorbet. Petits fours underscored the Peat Inn's competency in the pastry department.

You're probably thinking: "I bet she's got to recommend Geoff Smeddle's restaurant because they write for the same paper." But, you know what? Weirdly, I have never met the man, and happily, I am beholden to no-one. Only a fool would dispute that the Peat Inn, under his tutelage, is still one of the very best restaurants in Scotland.

The Peat Inn, Peat Inn, by St Andrews 01334 840206 Lunch £16-28 Dinner £32-48 Food rating 10/10