LIKE any other parents, Mrs B and I love our kids beyond reason.
But we still look forward to that week in summer when relatives whisk them away and we have a blissful kid-free few days.
That’s when we get to visit all the places we have fancied for a grown-up meal over the year.
And, trust me, Howies is a very grown-up place. You can tell that from the chic, elegant interior, all creams and terracotta with a huge pergola swathed in canopies and lampshades.
Our greeting was friendly enough, if a bit on the “oh, right” side as our names were ticked off the reservations list and we were led into the body of the kirk.
Now, Howies clearly likes to keep things simple. The menu is not the most extensive you’ll find in town. But less is often more.
I was drawn to the mussels in a spiced coconut creamy broth (£3.95) and was rewarded with a mountain of tender, plump and delicious shellfish to pick through.
Said broth was thicker than I imagined it would be, closer to tattie soup than consomme. It was still tasty, although more than two tiny pieces of ciabatta would have been nice for mopping-up purposes. Oh, and a fingerbowl would have been handy.
Meanwhile, Mrs B was loving her creamy, light and flavoursome chicken liver parfait (£4.05), even if she wasn’t overly keen on the chutney that came with it. She was looking for deep and caramelised, not fruity and spiced.
And why do some places insist on oatcakes only, not giving diners the choice of bread or crackers with pate?
But Mrs B was still smiling by the time the starters were over and we waited for dishes to be cleared ... and waited until someone eventually noticed we were ready for our mains, please.
Mrs B’s was spectacularly worth the wait. Her venison burger (£9.95) was cooked to gamey perfection, with a subtle cheese topping creating a near-perfect dish. Even her twice-cooked chips were the chippiest chips she can remember, and she loved the roasted peppers shot through her lightly-dressed salad. And caramelised chutney, hurrah!
My smoked haddock fishcakes (£11.55) were bursting with flavour, if not visibly crammed with fish. I like my fishcakes chunky, so you can see the flakes of fish. These had that fine texture where tattie and haddock become more of an ensemble mash.
But with the creamed spinach (yum) and yolky poached egg, this was more than enough to bed down my hankering for adult fare.
After another delay over getting and paying for the bill – service could be a bit slicker and more attentive – we were on our way home, mellow, full of food and no babysitter to cough up for.