I finally made it to Coorie In after a bit of a faff on the road from Perth – nothing major, just me taking a wrong turn onto some single-track lane near Aberfeldy and ending up nose-to-nose with a sheep that looked as baffled as I felt. A quick reverse and a sheepish wave to the farmer later, and there I was, pulling up to this cosy little lodge tucked into the Perthshire hills, ready for three days of proper chill time.

First impressions? Blimey, it was love at heart. Coorie In lives up to its name – that Scottish word for getting snug and comfy. The place is a proper gem: a wooden lodge with a wood-burner already stocked, a kitchen that screamed "cook up a storm", and views over the Tay Valley that made me forget the sheep incident instantly. But let's be honest, the real star was the food potential. I'd packed a cool bag with bits from the local shops, dreaming of self-catering like a proper local.

Day one kicked off with arrival hunger hitting hard. I unpacked and headed straight to Aberfeldy's high street, just a couple of miles away – it's got that perfect village vibe with a couple of independent delis and a farm shop bursting with Perthshire produce. I grabbed some smoked venison from the Birchall Smokery stall (their stuff is legendary around here), fresh tatties, a wedge of crowdie cheese, and a punnet of raspberries that were so ripe they practically burst in my hand. Back at the lodge, I attempted my first "gourmet" meal: venison slices pan-fried with a splash of local whisky (snagged a bottle of Aberfeldy single malt from the offie en route), served with boiled spuds and a dollop of crowdie. It was meant to be posh, but I overseasoned it with black pepper – turned out more like a spicy venison stir-fry. Laughable, really, but washed down with that smooth whisky by the fire, it hit the spot. The lodge kitchen made it dead easy, though – everything you need, from a cracking oven to pots that didn't stick.

Evening called for a pub crawl, Perthshire-style. The Black Crook in Aberfeldy was my first stop, a traditional spot with low beams and a roaring fire. I went for their haggis, neeps and tatties – proper comfort food, the haggis rich and peppery, neeps mashed to fluffy perfection. Paired with a pint of local Inveralmond ale, it was the ideal welcome. Chatted to a couple of locals about the best spots for foraging (mushrooms in the woods nearby, apparently), and stumbled back to Coorie In feeling buzzed and full.

Next morning, I was up for the Aberfeldy Farmers' Market – it's a weekend staple, just down the road. The air was thick with the smell of fresh bannocks and wood-smoked salmon. I loaded up on Atholl Brose (that creamy oat and whisky mix – dangerous!), handmade oatcakes, and some wild venison sausages from a Perthshire butcher. Self-reflection moment here: staring at my haul, I realised how often I rush meals back home, scoffing takeaways. Here, with the lodge as my base, I was actually slowing down, savouring the ritual of picking fresh ingredients. Made me feel a bit smug, if I'm honest.

Lunch was a heroic fail-turned-win: tried baking soda bread with the market flour, but it rose like a deflated balloon. Chuck it on the wood-burner with cheese and ham, though, and it was transformed into the ultimate toastie. Afternoon pub hop to the Watermill Inn, right by the River Tay – their beer-battered haddock was flaking perfection, chips crisp as anything, with mushy peas that tasted straight from a pod. Heaven.

By evening, back at Coorie In, I slow-cooked those venison sausages with market veg in the oven – tender, juicy, no disasters this time. Sipping tea (Yorkshire Gold, naturally) by the window, watching the mist roll in, I thought: this is the life. Food, pubs, and a kitchen that lets you muck about without stress. Perthshire's got it spot on, and Coorie In made it unforgettable. Can't wait to go back – sheep permitting.