Daniel Neuhaus
Google
Stepping from our room at The Fife Arms into the Clunie felt like swapping hallways for Highlands theatre: cubist-patterned walls, chandeliers that glow like embers, and a stag presiding over the open wood-fire grill. Our server, Cameron, suggested the fire-licked Invercauld venison loin—charred edges, rosy center, while Mom’s North Sea trout arrived, paired with sautéed greens.
Smoke-forward yet precise: lobster claw over birch-ember leeks, and each plate shouts Scottish provenance without fuss. Michelin is right, the kitchen lets prime local produce and that blazing hearth do the talking. Staff balance warmth with razor-sharp timing; glasses refilled before you notice, menus walked through like a fireside story. The separate vegan/vegetarian list means everyone’s covered, and tables can be angled away from the taxidermy if that’s your preference. 
Mains run £40-£48, but when the last forkful disappears you grasp the premium: provenance, fire, and hospitality flowing seamlessly. After a day of Highland air and Swiss lager in the Flying Stag, this was the restorative supper I needed and the leisurely two-minute wobble back upstairs sure beats a cold taxi queue.