If you are going to Dumfriesshire, we were told, you must eat at the Plumed Horse in Crossmichael.  But since that was the extent of our information, we were in the dark as to what to expect.  The name suggested a cosy village pub, all worn velvet upholstery, dark wood and polished brasses, serving hearty homemade pies with chips on the side.

We realised our mistake as soon as we crossed the immaculate threshold.  The downstairs dining room with its smart yellow walls and blue carpet was certainly cosy, but this was no village pub.  There were only five tables, there crisp white cloth set with gleaming silver and glassware.

The restaurant is just three years old, making it young enough to qualify for the Good Food Guide’s Newcomer of the Year 2002 yet established enough to merit a Michelin Star.  It was easy to see why the critics have been so impressed.

Although the kitchen was catering for a private function, we were the only diners on the premises. Would the waiting staff be tempted to rush or neglect us? Absolutely not; the two waiters were chatty but not pushy, attentive but not obtrusive. The menu is luxurious without being pretentious.  All the traditional favourites were there – Foie Gras and Scallops to start, Game, Beef and Salmon to follow with not a chip in sight! There was a real whiff of seaweed and salt about my quintet of lightly sautéed, caviar topped scallops, landed less than 10 miles away in Kirkcudbright that morning.  The accompanying saffron risotto had a bit too much bite for my taste but it certainly provided a contrast to the softness of their flesh.  My partner assured me his pale, foamy partridge soup containing a whole sautéed breast, a smattering of puy lentils and several deep puddles of aromatic truffle oil tasted as amazing as it looked. The black olives in the thick, dark crust of my roast “chunk” of Cod were less apparent than the not too sharp, not too sweet preserved lemons but with the horseradish pomme puree, tomato fondue and dill, chive and parsley sauce, it was a fabulous combination of flavours. My partner’s pork was another triumph. Pieces of braised belly with sticky honey sauce and roast fillet and tail with horseradish sauce were arranged on an oval platter with sautéed kidney, crackling, parsnip puree and candied baby turnips. My prune and Armagnac parfait had all the alcoholic intensity of a truly historic Christmas pudding without the weight.  The flavours of his gorgeous assiette of six little desserts: caramel ice cream on an almond tuille, apple turnover and apple sorbet, apricot sorbet in a chocolate tuille, chocolate tart with white chocolate ice cream and passion fruit brulee with torched sugar. It’s true, if you are going to Dumfriesshire, you must eat at the Plumed Horse.