News

Wine List Confidential: Number One at The Balmoral

16 December 2024 By Douglas Blyde

Douglas Blyde heads north of the border once again, assessing whether Number One at Edinburgh’s The Balmoral really offers the “perfection” that its name promises.

Beneath the baronial bravado of this Rocco Forte flagship, an underground lair pulses with red-lacquered walls, sinuous banquettes, and tables set with clinical precision. The Telegraph called it “a template for updated old-school glamour,” though it’s more chic than sentimental – a sanctuary for those who crave dinner to feel like a full-on spectacle. And this it delivers, relentlessly, being “a celebration whether there’s an occasion or not.”

But disaster struck in 2022 when Michelin, which had awarded Number One a star since 2003, failed to renew it. The blow was swift, cutting through the gloss like white spirit – a prize now dangling just out of reach. With the stakes higher than ever, every plate, every pour, every gesture feels like a high-wire act – a thrilling push to reclaim what was lost.

Perfection is the aim, but the path is precarious. One wrong move, and the wait for redemption grows longer. Above, The Balmoral’s 58-metre clock tower, set three minutes fast to afford train passengers beside a final kiss, looms over Number One, each tick echoing through the dining room, as if the hands of time are counting down to the moment when Michelin will once again bestow its coveted star.

Drinks

The drinks programme, led by Callum McCann (formerly of UNALOME by Graeme Cheevers), is a study in precision and daring – a balancing act between refinement and indulgence, with the constant risk of excess. McCann’s relationship with wine began in rebellion, dismissing Fino sherry until a sage supplier changed his view with the mantra: “You just haven’t tried one you like.”

Now at the helm of one of Edinburgh’s most-lauded lists, he curates treasures from Mouton-Rothschild to Dobogó Tokaji Eszencia, pairing them with head chef, Mathew Sherry’s plates. Together, they find a symphony in sweetbreads and rhubarb. McCann is a man of contrasts – a champion of Cabernet Franc, a banisher of Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc, and a new parent learning to balance ambition with chaos, while longing to share Arabic tea with his great-grandfather, Samuel H. Brodie, a comrade of Lawrence of Arabia.

By the glass, the list entices, but also challenges. Charles Heidsieck Brut Réserve NV (£19) is an elegant opener, but it’s the elusive Champagne Charlie NV (£95) which courts extravagance. Whites range from the floral Gewürztraminer of Domaine Kirrenbourg (£16) to the silken Puligny-Montrachet of Jean Chartron (£38), each glass promising something revelatory – or risky. Reds venture further, from the smoky depth of Greece’s Xinomavro by Alpha Estate (£17) to the bold austerity of Biondi-Santi’s Brunello di Montalcino Riserva 2011 (£130). The question remains: can a single glass capture the depth of a region, a vintage, and a winemaker?

Charles Heidsieck’s presence dominates the Champagne section, a relationship which borders on obsession. The Brut Réserve NV (£96) is reliable, the Blanc des Millénaires 2006 (£315) luminous, and the Champagne Charlie NV (£550) achingly exceptional. But the daring lies in its extremes: there is also the aged Hors-Série Piper Heidsieck 1971 (£675) and the mythical La Collection Crayères 1989 (£2,500), choices fraught with the gamble of expectation. These bottles don’t merely promise pleasure; they demand it, their price tags a hushed dare.

Half bottles and magnums are where indulgence teeters on excess. A half bottle of Trimbach Riesling Frédéric Émile 2013 (£90) invites careful contemplation, while a magnum of Château Montelena Chardonnay 2009 (£500) calls for celebration – but what if the audience is unworthy? With larger formats, their volumes mirror the weight of expectation. It’s the kind of decision which separates dinner from memory.

As the list deepens, Burgundy and Bordeaux up the ante. A Chablis Grand Cru, Les Bougros, Samuel Billaud 2022 (£380) is prism-like, but will its elegance hold against the complexities of a dish? Château Margaux 2003 (£1,500) and Château Mouton Rothschild 2008 (£1,400) are investments in opulence, but their grandeur risks overshadowing the meal itself. The finale is no less audacious. A Tokaji 6 Puttonyos 2017 (£155 for 50cl) glimmers with honeyed temptation, while Château d’Yquem 1990 (£750) provokes you to find fault in its golden embrace. Even the fortifieds, from Ferreira’s Thirty-Year-Old Tawny (£250) to Dow’s Silver Jubilee Vintage 1977 (£275), whisper decadence which could elevate or overwhelm. This is a list of exquisite danger, where every choice is a gamble, and every bottle a potential triumph – or test.

Dishes

Under the hand of chef de cuisine, Mathew Sherry, a man whose talents were honed at Northcote in Lancashire, and Castle Terrace in Edinburgh, the food here is an exercise in unflashy brilliance. His plates are thoughtful, deliberate, and measured. In the dining room, Emma Hemy steers with the composed authority of a captain keeping her ship on course, ensuring nothing is left to chance, but everything feels, somehow, inevitable.

We began in the glass wine vault, broad glasses of positively reductive Charles Heidsieck Champagne Charlie in hand, paired with 30g of N25 Oscietra caviar, perched atop Sherry’s well-seasoned, homemade crumpets. This Champagne, revived by Cyril Brun as a tribute to its late-1970s origins, is born of 80% reserve wines spanning 25 years – a far more convincing creation than Hugh Grant’s hammy turn as its namesake in the 1989 film, where he “played the archetypal hero,” rescuing “pretty girls” and hitting “people in the face” – “all the things I wanted to be… a very nice role, really.” Continuing in the lightly Charles Heidsieck-branded private dining room, we were served homemade linseed sourdough with perfectly spherical, unsalted butter from Tain, by the team at Highland Fine Cheese.

Next came the greengage-scented Pieropan La Rocca Soave 2022, from Soave’s only limestone outcrop in a basalt landscape, accompanied by Ullapool crab with smoked almond custard, then lobster caught by a father-and-son team on the River Forth – with ginger and soy, its bisque profound. The finest dish of the meal, however, was Gleneagles estate partridge, with black Wiltshire truffle and white bread sauce, an ephemeral bird which was the foil for the fully mature 2006 Pommard 1er Cru Les Pezerolles (Domaine Potinet Ampeau). Having decanted it with frothy conviction, McCann noted the wine which had been bestowed on him, had enough “freshness” to work harmoniously with the “leek vinaigrette,” though, in truth, his assessment was more wishful thinking than reality.

Greater brightness followed in David Moret’s Saint-Romain 2020 Chardonnay with Lerwick halibut, a dish which should have been pristine – yet the halibut, slightly overcooked, was an undeniable flaw. Its delicate texture, once perfect, had been compromised, a jarring misstep in an otherwise brilliant compilation of flavours. Despite the intrusion, the halibut still carried toothsome appeal, enhanced by its coating of more luxurious, popping, Oscietra caviar, which momentarily restored harmony. Yet, in an arena of fine dining, this slight aberration is seismic – a fleeting lapse in perfection which disrupts the otherwise carefully crafted narrative.

A nod to Grange Hill’s iconic “flying sausage” came in the form of roe deer from Hopetoun Estate, twenty miles away, served alongside ruddy loin, and a celeriac fondant which evoked a posh doughnut. This matched the 2020 Cepparello, a Sangiovese of such pedigree and stature, showcasing black cherry and graphite, a fitting tribute to Paolo De Marchi’s 45 years of craftsmanship at Isole e Olena, now in the hands of EPI Group, alongside Biondi-Santi.

A brief respite with honey from the hotel’s rooftop apiary, tended by sous chef, John, ensued, woven with clean yoghurt and dazzling honeycomb. We finished with a soufflé of local pumpkin, gingerbread, and pumpkin seed praline, accompanied by 2023 Mullineux Straw Wine, evoking the liquified ideal of Alphonso mango.

Last word

Pairings today were chosen at our hosts’ behest, though McCann navigated selections with finesse. Left to his own devices, you might find English Blanc de Noirs with crab, a wild ferment, still Xarel-lo, oak-aged, from septuagenarian vines paired with partridge, and luscious Vin de Constance with that delightful autumnal soufflé. Perfection isn’t just the goal here; it’s the heartbeat of the experience. Whether they realise it or not, every diner becomes part of this performance. It’s all about one thing: getting back to being Number One. As the Scottish proverb goes: “Time and tide for nae man bide.” And here, every moment is spent in the relentless march toward vindication…