Which town in Scotland would you say receives the biggest battering from the winter elements?
Somebody once tried to persuade me that East Kilbride is the only place where you can throw snowballs at the Orange Walk.
But Biggar isn't exactly a tropical paradise by comparison (to the best of my knowledge it's never been used as the location for a Bounty advert) and, sure enough, seconds after peeling off the M74 at Abington Services we got a hard time at the hands of the local DSS - drizzle, sleet and snow.
Not to worry, though, the splendid Cornhill House Hotel always has a warm welcome on offer, according to Margaret who'd been whisked along a couple of times by her old dear.
Maggie's mum, presumably, is an Audrey fforbes-Hamilton sort of lady, the kind portrayed on the small screen by Penelope Keith.
Well, folks, this is strictly To The Manor Born territory.
The front gates and the main building probably have different postcodes and you almost expect to find a Little Chef halfway up the drive.
A refreshing aperitif in the beautifully furnished lounge with its roaring log fire was almost spoiled by the brain-bashing muzak being sewage-piped in.
Given the stately home set-up, surely I'd be able to find a shotgun somewhere?
Perhaps noticing the festering sores that were beginning to coat my lugholes, the young waitress - who provided exemplary service for the rest of the evening, appearing as if by magic at just the right times - smiled knowingly and said: "You're lucky - you don't have to work here."
Don't know about that, dear. I'd cheerfully do a few voluntary shifts at The Cornhill House Hotel - whether The Very Best Of Peruvian Pan Pipes CD was on a constant loop or not - if I thought the staff meals came straight from the excellent main menu.
In the bistro (white linen tablecloths, but packets of butter and HP sauce sachets as though to remind you there's an even smarter dining-room next door that's open weekends only), I thoroughly enjoyed what can only be described as the perfect meal.
A great starter, a fabulous main course and, believe it or not, an even better dessert.
Just like the man who couldn't pronounce the letters T, F, or H, you can't say fairer than that.
Described intriguingly on the menu as "soup under pastry" the thick, intensely satisfying salmon and prawn bisque hit all the right buttons.
And, yes, looking a bit like one of those OTT chicken and ham pies from a Brewers Fayre, my bowl was indeed topped with an enormous crash helmet of flaky pastry.
A quick thwack with the back of my spoon and bite-sized pieces were soon soaking up all the wonderful fishy flavours of the broth.
This concoction appeared on the separate sheet of chef's specials and I think it now deserves a regular slot on the main menu.
Maggie's home-made chicken liver pate was very good and it was definitely the real thing. Yes, you've guessed it, it was served without nearly enough toast.
Without a word of a lie, I've still to find the restaurant where you don't have to end up smearing your pate on to a toast substitute - otherwise known as cucumber slices.
Anyway, while Maggie also enjoyed her poached salmon with leek and cream sauce - "Absolutely delicious and perfectly cooked" - I simply sat back for few seconds and marvelled at my main course.
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But Biggar isn't exactly a tropical paradise by comparison (to the best of my knowledge it's never been used as the location for a Bounty advert) and, sure enough, seconds after peeling off the M74 at Abington Services we got a hard time at the hands of the local DSS - drizzle, sleet and snow.
Not to worry, though, the splendid Cornhill House Hotel always has a warm welcome on offer, according to Margaret who'd been whisked along a couple of times by her old dear.
Maggie's mum, presumably, is an Audrey fforbes-Hamilton sort of lady, the kind portrayed on the small screen by Penelope Keith.
Well, folks, this is strictly To The Manor Born territory.
The front gates and the main building probably have different postcodes and you almost expect to find a Little Chef halfway up the drive.
A refreshing aperitif in the beautifully furnished lounge with its roaring log fire was almost spoiled by the brain-bashing muzak being sewage-piped in.
Given the stately home set-up, surely I'd be able to find a shotgun somewhere?
Perhaps noticing the festering sores that were beginning to coat my lugholes, the young waitress - who provided exemplary service for the rest of the evening, appearing as if by magic at just the right times - smiled knowingly and said: "You're lucky - you don't have to work here."
Don't know about that, dear. I'd cheerfully do a few voluntary shifts at The Cornhill House Hotel - whether The Very Best Of Peruvian Pan Pipes CD was on a constant loop or not - if I thought the staff meals came straight from the excellent main menu.
In the bistro (white linen tablecloths, but packets of butter and HP sauce sachets as though to remind you there's an even smarter dining-room next door that's open weekends only), I thoroughly enjoyed what can only be described as the perfect meal.
A great starter, a fabulous main course and, believe it or not, an even better dessert.
Just like the man who couldn't pronounce the letters T, F, or H, you can't say fairer than that.
Described intriguingly on the menu as "soup under pastry" the thick, intensely satisfying salmon and prawn bisque hit all the right buttons.
And, yes, looking a bit like one of those OTT chicken and ham pies from a Brewers Fayre, my bowl was indeed topped with an enormous crash helmet of flaky pastry.
A quick thwack with the back of my spoon and bite-sized pieces were soon soaking up all the wonderful fishy flavours of the broth.
This concoction appeared on the separate sheet of chef's specials and I think it now deserves a regular slot on the main menu.
Maggie's home-made chicken liver pate was very good and it was definitely the real thing. Yes, you've guessed it, it was served without nearly enough toast.
Without a word of a lie, I've still to find the restaurant where you don't have to end up smearing your pate on to a toast substitute - otherwise known as cucumber slices.
Anyway, while Maggie also enjoyed her poached salmon with leek and cream sauce - "Absolutely delicious and perfectly cooked" - I simply sat back for few seconds and marvelled at my main course.
