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Fine dining at the Thistle Hotel, Brighton

With three kids between us and two busy jobs, my friend Julie and I have been screaming out for some kid-free fun for months. So when the opportunity came up to go to Brighton for a Fine Dining weekend, we were packed and ready quicker than Superman in a phone box

Choosing to drive rather than squish onto a train, we arrived in good time, tumbling out of the car in comfy, slightly ill-fitting jogging bottoms, ready for the rest of the weekend. Despite our dishevelled appearances, we received a warm, professional welcome at the Thistle and were up in our room in minutes.

Our double room had a phenomenal sea view. 'We're practically in the sea!' exclaimed Julie, and we had taken reams of photos before we even hit the pier. A particularly thoughtful touch, sea view rooms have a little set of binoculars to ensure you don't miss anything happening on or beside the water.

The city by the sea is a girlie haven: oodles of independent shops in the Lanes, a friendly crowd at night and more kitsch than you can throw a 'kiss me quick' hat at.

But this weekend, rather than dancing the night away and staggering in as the sun rose up over the pebbled beach and archway cafes, we were to enjoy a dignified, delicious three-course meal.

I'll be honest, I wouldn't normally think to go to a Thistle hotel for a special meal, but the Promenade Restaurant has recently received two AA rosettes (along with eight other Thistle hotels, which have all received either one or two rosettes), and this is no bog-standard, identikit hotel grill.

To start, we enjoyed a delicious creamed potato and leek soup to cleanse our palettes; followed by two fine seafood starters (my crab was exquisite, while Julie's scallops were 'amazingly moist and just the right texture').

The staff were attentive and patient (we took some time savouring the delicious bread and umming and aahing over the wine list), talking us through the dishes as they arrived.

For our main dishes, Julie opted for a beautiful hunk of Aberdeen Angus beef, with Anna potatoes and crushed peas, while I enjoyed a poisson with pancetta, crisped potatoes and plenty of vegetables on the side.

Thanks to the bread, we had stuffed ourselves silly between courses as well as during, but rather than bail on pudding (heavens, never!), we asked for a little time to decide and took in the view.

The Promenade Restaurant is at the very front of the hotel, a storey up from the street and directly facing the sea, perfect for people-watching. We saw waves and waves of stag-nighters and brides-to-be, increasingly wobbly on their heels as the night wore on. We saw couples strolling arm-in-arm and tourists arriving at the hotel, dragging suitcases from cabs and staring out to sea. Everyone had a smile.

Finally, we were ready for pudding and it was, of course, worth the wait. Julie enjoyed her white chocolate mousse (encased in a 'modern art' chunk of creamy, white chocolate), and I, after dithering over the fig tartlet with honey mascarpone ice-cream, finally chose a raspberry dish that melted in the mouth and came with delicious scoops of delicate ice-cream.

Finally, with very full tummies, we collapsed to sleep on the enormous bed.

The room was fantastic, but we both felt the bathroom let it down. Not that there was anything wrong with it (the toilet flushed, the water flowed, it was clean), but compared with the sea view, the huge bed, the touch of the binoculars, it just lacked any pizzazz.

The next day, we gorged ourselves (again) with a double helping of breakfast: continental meats, cheeses and fruits, followed by a decidedly un-continental platter of eggs, bacon, sausage, mushrooms, tomatoes and round upon round of toast, plus, of course, lashings of tea.

And after an express check-out, we rolled out into the Sunday sun, very satisfied, very rested and ready to hit Brighton's shops before a lolloping drive home. Perfect.

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