Wild Dining at Inverlonan

A serendipitous culinary adventure in the Scottish Highlands

As we queued up to wait for a table at Hinba Coffee Roasters in Oban, my eyes were drawn to the freshly baked loaves of sourdough on the shelf in front of us. Our hotel stay meant that we lacked the setup to properly enjoy such provisions, but I picked up the small half sheet of paper to learn more about where the bread was made. Discovering these local gems and the stories behind them is one of my greatest joys.

As we sat down at our table, with the stunning Oban Bay dazzling outside the window, I read the sheet of paper which ended with a brief mention of Inverlonan’s Wild Dining offering. I couldn’t find much about it on the website or Instagram (to be honest, this piqued my interest even more) so on a whim, I emailed the contact details provided. Chef Tim Kensett responded almost immediately, and that day we were booked in for the following evening.

Sometimes, the most extraordinary experiences come from spontaneous decisions. The chance discovery of Inverlonan Bakery led us to the unforgettable Wild Dining experience. We fell in love with this stunning corner of Scotland and hope to return to Inverlonan in the future – not just to dine again, but also to stay overnight and fully immerse ourselves in the beauty of Glenlonan.

As we arrived for dinner the next evening, we made our way downhill from the car park. The bothy where we'd be dining soon came into view, nestled amongst the rugged landscape. The wind howled around us, but the small stone building glowed warmly, illuminated by what we'd later discover were candles placed on every available surface and tea lights tucked into the crevices of the stone walls.

The open fire kitchen and candle light ambiance made for a very special evening.

Smoke rose over the rooftop, and as we rounded the corner, we encountered the lean-to kitchen with an open fire set up for the evening. While Tim left to collect the other dinner guests, my husband and I had a moment to ourselves. Instantly enamored, we marveled at our surroundings; at what, just 24 hours ago, we hadn't the faintest idea existed. There was a mystical, almost eerie feeling in the air. The history of Glenlonan seemed palpable, adding to the enchanting atmosphere of the evening.

The bothy was thoughtfully transformed from a basic stone shelter to a unique dining experience equipped with warm blankets, candle light and a beautifully-set table. Though Tim welcomes up to twelve people to dine communally, the evening we went, we were accompanied by just one other couple, which only enhanced the experience.

bothy: (in Scotland) a small hut or cottage, especially one for housing farm labourers or for use as a mountain refuge.

Each dish that arrived, eight courses in total, was a delight. Ingredients were sourced either directly from the farm or locally, cooked over an open fire, and artfully presented. Our menu for the evening consisted of local oysters, trout and beef; plates both adorned with and highlighting fresh vegetables from the garden at Inverlonan; and the very sourdough bread that we had admired earlier at the café, now served alongside homemade butter. For the two dessert courses, we had a vibrant and refreshing raspberry sorbet made from the last of the year’s berries, and a comforting rice pudding inspired by Tim’s grandmother’s recipe.

It was too dark to photograph everything but here are a couple of dishes: local oysters and 'the garden on a plate.'

I savored each bite as the dishes were accompanied by stories about the ingredients, preparation, and inspiration. One such anecdote was about a plate of fresh, raw vegetables, picked from the garden that afternoon and served alongside a dip made from garlic roasted in ash. Tim explained that many people never experience the simple pleasure of eating vegetables fresh from the garden and therefore called this dish “the garden on a plate.” By including this course he wanted to enable us to have that experience and I can attest, it was way more than just a simple plate of vegetables.

While we felt fortunate to have such an extraordinary meal, the evening ultimately reminded us of the beauty of slowing down to connect by enjoying a meal and sharing conversation with others. Fancy surroundings and exemplary cooking skills aren’t required to enjoy the pleasure of dining communally; yet in this case, it was very much so worth it and made for an evening that we will never forget.

Leaving the bothy after the conclusion of a fabulous meal.

Have you ever done something like this before? I’ve since learned of and bookmarked some other places in the UK to hopefully one day try. Our dinner also reminded me of another dining experience I’d love to have called Outstanding in the Field, but in a much more intimate scale.

Until next time!

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