Loch Fyne is the longest of Scotland’s sea lochs – it stretches a colossal forty miles inland from the Sound of Bute to Achadunan, a small hamlet in the foothills of the Trossachs. You probably know the name courtesy of the restaurant chain that adopted it, but the loch itself is famous for some of the finest seafood in Scotland, as well as some typically Hebridean vistas.
Ancient Scottish monuments stand proudly along its length; on the south shore of the loch is Old Castle Lachlan, a once mighty fifteenth century castle that has long since been humbled by the passage of time. Clan MacLachlan moved to a new castle in 1790, and when they left, the ivy promptly moved in, sprawling over the old stone like a lush green carpet. If you’re climbing among the castle ruins and you peer across the lake to the south, you’ll see a cottage, whitewashed and glowing among the trees. This is Inver – a restaurant with rooms that is fast becoming a new monument to Scottish cuisine.
Inver is the culmination of a journey for Pam Brunton – she was born in Scotland and raised on the east coast, in Carnoustie just outside Dundee. ‘Scotland’s second most famous golf town!’ she laughs. ‘My mum prepared home-cooked meals most nights of the week, but we also had Findus crispy pancakes and Linda McCartney lasagnas, because I decided I was a vegetarian when I was thirteen. So my mum said, ‘that's fine, but you're not eating rubbish and I'm not cooking two meals for the family. Your father won't eat vegetables!’ So I started cooking in my teens because of that – because she normalised cooking I suppose.’
It was a relatively normal foodie upbringing, but already there was the seed of something that would grow in Pam and her approach to food. Her mother was raised in Zimbabwe, and always grew her own vegetables, battling with Scotland’s inhospitable east coast but often coming out on top. ‘She grew sweetcorn outside, which I find remarkable!’ says Pam. ‘I guess, as a result, you grow up understanding the flavour of real produce. You can taste the difference. I knew what sweetcorn straight off the plant tasted like. It was always a moment of great excitement when we got a ripe cob of sweetcorn.’
Though Pam never had any intention of becoming a chef, she recognises the importance of those childhood experiences a little more now. ‘There was nothing in my early years that said food was going to be significant,’ she says, ‘but then of course, it happens and you look back and think, ‘okay, I can see who I am; I’ve got value in these things’.’