The Craft Behind Our French Toast Brunch

Perched beside the rotating arms of the Falkirk Wheel, The Wheelhouse has built a reputation for relaxed all-day dining that draws visitors from across central Scotland and well beyond. Weekends fill quickly with locals stopping in after a walk along the Union Canal, holidaymakers ticking off a must-see Scottish landmark, and families marking small celebrations. Brunch runs from late morning into the afternoon, and the French toast has quietly become the dish that guests photograph before they take a single bite.

Australia knows a thing or two about a serious brunch. In Melbourne, queues form before ten o'clock for smashed avo and flat whites; in Sydney, beachside cafés have turned eggs benedict into an art form; and in Brisbane and Adelaide, the brunch crowd expects creative menus that go well beyond a fry-up. Australian travellers are seasoned brunch critics, which makes them an audience The Wheelhouse is happy to welcome. The French toast on our menu is the kind of plate that holds its own against anything served in Fitzroy or Surry Hills, and it tells a small story about how a Scottish kitchen treats a dish the rest of the world thinks it already knows.

A French toast is, on paper, simple. Bread, eggs, milk, a hot pan. The reason ours tastes different is the care taken at every step that nobody rushes, and the little decisions that turn a humble stack into something a kitchen is quietly proud of.

A Loaf Worth Building On

Every good French toast begins with the bread, and the bread we use is a thick-cut brioche. Brioche brings a buttery richness and a tight crumb that drinks in the custard without collapsing on the griddle. We slice it a full inch thick, sometimes from a loaf baked the day before, because slightly stale brioche grips the soak far better than a soft, just-out-of-the-oven slice. The result is a French toast that holds a golden crust outside while staying almost pudding-like in the middle.

Sourcing matters too. Our kitchen works with a local baker who understands what we need, and we treat that relationship like the foundation of the dish. Bread this good does not happen by accident, and we would rather change a recipe than compromise the loaf. Guests who are used to the dense, slightly sweet brioche served in Australian patisseries will recognise the same family of flavours, only here it has been chosen specifically to stand up to a generous soak and a hot pan.

A final point that often gets overlooked: thickness is flavour. Too thin and the custard disappears into the pan. Too thick and the centre stays dry. An inch is the sweet spot, and our cooks press each slice with a careful hand before it goes anywhere near the heat.

The Custard That Soaks In

If the bread is the foundation, the custard is the heart. Ours blends free-range eggs with double cream, a splash of whole milk, caster sugar, vanilla bean paste, and a whisper of ground cinnamon. Some mornings a little orange zest goes in, lifted from the kitchen garden when the citrus is in season. Everything is whisked slowly until the mixture feels silken, never frothy, because we want the bread to absorb flavour, not air.

The slices rest in the custard for a measured time. Long enough for the brioche to drink deep, short enough that it keeps its shape. This is the step a rushed kitchen skips, and the step that separates a flat, pale stack from one that arrives with a custard-set centre and a caramelised crust. Patience here pays back in every mouthful.

There is also a small secret: a knob of butter in the pan, never oil, never spray. Butter browns the milk solids in the custard and gives the French toast that nutty, almost toffee-like aroma. It is the kind of detail you only notice if you have eaten a great many French toasts and paid attention.

Toppings That Earn Their Place

A French toast is only as good as what goes on top, and the kitchen takes the same care with the crowning layer. In summer, we spoon over stewed Scottish berries — raspberries, blackberries, and the occasional wild blueberry — and let their sharp juice cut through the richness. In the colder months, the fruit shifts to poached pears, spiced apples, and sometimes a quick compote of rhubarb. A drizzle of Scottish heather honey sits on every plate, because the floral sweetness is something you simply cannot fake with supermarket syrup.

For those who want a little more, we offer a side of crisp streaky bacon. The salty crunch against the soft, sweet stack is a combination Australian diners will recognise from the sweet-and-savoury brunch plates popular in Byron Bay cafés. A quenelle of vanilla bean ice cream melts slowly into the warm toast, and a final dusting of icing sugar arrives at the table, dusted tableside through a small sieve for a touch of theatre.

Presentation is unfussy but considered. The stack is built tall, the fruit arranged in colour, the sauce drizzled in a single confident line. It is the kind of plate that earns a photograph before the first fork goes in, and we do not mind a bit.

A View Worth the Wait

Where the French toast is eaten matters as much as how it is made. The Wheelhouse sits metres from the Falkirk Wheel, the world's only rotating boat lift, and the restaurant's floor-to-ceiling windows put the whole mechanical marvel in the corner of your eye. On a still morning the canal is glass, and the wheel turns slowly in the background while coffee is poured and forks tap against the plates.

Brunch here is rarely just a meal. Guests stretch it out, ordering a second coffee, chatting between courses, and watching narrowboats tip gently through the basin. Children press against the glass to count the caissons as they rotate. Couples sit longer than they planned. It is the kind of unhurried rhythm that Australian travellers, used to the bustle of a Melbourne laneway brunch, often find surprisingly restorative.

The team understands that the dish is only half the experience. The setting is the other half, and the two together are what people remember when they get home.

Sweet Mornings, Savoury Afternoons

Brunch at The Wheelhouse does not have to be a one-note affair. Guests who like a little of both worlds will often order the French toast to share alongside a plate from the lunch menu, and our chefs have long believed that a great brunch table should hold something sweet and something savoury at the same time. The same thinking shapes our cheese selection, where Scottish crowd-pleasers sit beside a few more adventurous picks, all served with traditional oatcakes. Readers curious about the reasoning behind that pairing can read more about why we serve oatcakes with our cheese selection.

The kitchen is just as comfortable stretching the meal into the early afternoon. Some guests order the French toast as a starter and move on to something more substantial when the lunch service begins, while others treat the whole table to a long, sociable spread that includes pastries, the toast, and a bottle of wine from the cellar list.

A Brunch Built Around the Guest

Service at The Wheelhouse is unhurried but attentive. Staff know the menu, know the dish, and know when a guest would like a recommendation and when they would simply like a top-up of coffee. Many of the front-of-house team trained through the Townhouse Restaurants group and bring that wider family of restaurants' standards to every plate that leaves the kitchen.

Families are particularly welcome. Children's menus, smaller portions, and high chairs are all part of the routine, and the French toast can be split for younger diners who want a taste without a full stack. Gift cards and experience vouchers make the venue a popular choice for birthdays and anniversaries, and the team is happy to help arrange a small surprise, from a candle in a dessert to a printed card on the table.

The kitchen's reach goes well beyond brunch. For guests who prefer something more substantial, the chefs turn out generous comfort plates from the lunch and à la carte menus, and a long-standing favourite is the mozzarella salami risotto, a slow-cooked dish that carries the same care and depth as the brunch plates in a more savoury direction.

Before booking, it is worth glancing at the restaurant's seasonal packages, which pair brunch with overnight stays, tours of the Falkirk Wheel, and other local experiences for visitors tying a meal into a wider Scottish weekend. Bookings can be made through the website, and the team recommends reserving ahead for weekend brunches, when the tables nearest the window go first. Walk-ins are always welcome and rarely turned away, but a quick reservation guarantees the seat, the view, and the French toast still warm from the pan.