'We didn’t want malt Disneyland': Mark Donald on whisky, playfulness and The Glenturret

When Mark Donald left Edinburgh’s Number One at The Balmoral for a restaurant inside Scotland’s oldest working distillery, even he admits the idea felt unconvincing.

"You hear ‘restaurant in a distillery’ and you think of shortbread tins, tartan, Nessie, haggis and Scotty dogs - it just felt cliché,” he says. But when Mark came up to see The Glenturret, the vision was completely different. They needed someone daft enough to take it on, and he saw immediately it could be something very special.

Since opening, The Glenturret Lalique Restaurant has become one of Scotland’s most celebrated dining destinations, earning five AA rosettes, a Michelin star within seven months, and a second just two years later. That recognition made it only the third restaurant in Scottish history to hold two Michelin stars, joining Andrew Fairlie at Gleneagles as the only other current two-star in Scotland.

Shaped by kitchens around the world

Mark has worked in various prestigious restaurants including Noma in Copenhagen, Bentley in Sydney, Andrew Fairlie at Gleneagles, Claude Bosi in London.

He said: “Every kitchen I worked in taught me something different. Bentley in Sydney was very contemporary, pushing modernist techniques at the time. Noma in 2010 was incredibly progressive - even back then it was already leading the New Nordic movement. Fairlie’s was disciplined, militant even, but Andrew worked in a calm, quiet way.

"Claude’s was the opposite - busy, chaotic at times, but with sky-high standards. They all had high standards, just delivered differently. I believe you take the best and the worst from each of those places, almost subconsciously, and they shape you into the chef you become later in life.”

A kitchen shaped by its surroundings

Life in Perthshire is a world away from the bustle of Edinburgh. For Mark, that slower pace and closeness to nature has shaped his cooking.

He added: “Here we can go walking in the woods on our days off, forage mushrooms and wild cherries, or swim in the loch. You don’t sit in traffic, you see deer in the fields and hawks in the sky. That pace of life seeps into the food. It gives you space to think, to connect with nature. Foraging here isn’t contrived or done for effect - if we use something it has to taste good and have a purpose on the plate. Being close to the land naturally starts to shape the menu, and it means the food has a real sense of place.”

Whisky woven subtly into the menu

At The Glenturret, whisky is ever-present, but never in the obvious way guests might expect.

He explained: “When you open a restaurant inside Scotland’s oldest working distillery, the expectation is obvious: whisky with every course, whisky bonbons, heavy sauces. We didn’t want to do that. We didn’t want ‘malt Disneyland.’ Not everyone even likes whisky. Instead, we spent time with the distillers, the whisky makers, the people who have worked here for years, and we began to see connections between their processes and ours in the kitchen.

"About 90 to 95 per cent of the menu now has some link to whisky - whether it’s a technique, an ingredient, or a process - but it’s never forced. By the end of the meal, you know you’re in a distillery, but it hasn’t been rammed down your throat.”

That philosophy even extends to the bread, he added: “Our bread at The Glenturret is as tied to the distillery as the whisky itself. It uses malted barley, water from Loch Turret and natural yeast. At first, when we tried to adapt my Balmoral recipe, it just didn’t work.

"It took months of trial and error, digging into scientific papers and speaking to specialists, before we realised the malted barley was eating away at the gluten structure during fermentation.

"But that challenge gave us something unique - a bread that belongs here. It’s not just bread and butter; it’s an expression of place, made from the same ingredients as the whisky itself.”

Playfulness with purpose

Mark’s cooking balances precision with playfulness. A tattie scone becomes a luxury bite with Wagyu, egg yolk jam, caviar and truffle; a “knuckle sandwich” arrives not as a punchline but as lobster claw with lobster consommé served as a hot toddy.

He said: “There’s definitely playfulness in what we do, but it’s never forced. I’m not sitting down writing puns for the menu. It comes naturally, because I think food should be fun. Why should people whisper in a two-star restaurant about whether they dare ask for more bread?

"Some of our guests save up for months to eat here - I want them to laugh, to relax, to feel like they’re at home. So if that means serving a tattie scone topped with Wagyu and truffle, or sending out a lobster ‘knuckle sandwich,’ then so be it. Fine dining doesn’t have to be stiff. You can still have crystal, white tablecloths, and precision - but also joy.”

Recognition and responsibility

The Michelin stars came fast - seven months for the first, two years for the second.

“Suddenly we were only the third restaurant in Scotland ever to hold two stars, and the second in eighteen years. For the team, it was a huge achievement. I’m not an island - everyone here is incredibly talented in their own right. Recognition like that raises our profile, helps attract new talent, and shows young chefs that Scotland can be a place to train at the very highest level. For me personally, it’s special because I worked under Andrew Fairlie, and now to be mentioned in the same breath, in that same handful of restaurants, is something I don’t take lightly.”

Ending on a note of fun

Meals at The Glenturret often end as playfully as they begin. There’s pastry chef Kayleigh Turner's mille-feuille, paired with a miniature whisky bottle of caramel for guests to pour themselves, and Choc-timus Prime, a custom-built sweetie box that opens like a carnival ride, filled with smoked caramels, nougat and jellies.

Mark said: “We end with fun because that’s the last impression guests take away. By that point in the meal, they’re ready to laugh at it. Everyone likes to play. Everyone likes to have fun. After a long tasting menu, that moment of playfulness brings them back to life.”

And what does Mark want guests to take away when they finally step back into the Perthshire night? His answer is simple.

He added: “When a guest leaves, I don’t want them to take anything away - I want them to have left something here. I want them to have forgotten about their problems, like you do on holiday, and just enjoyed themselves. At the end of the day, I’m not a surgeon or a rocket scientist - I’m a cook. My job is to make sure people have had a good time.”

written by abi kinsella