Feasgar math or, as you may say in the colonies, good afternoon or good evening. The week past, upon which my report is based, held some surprises. Not the least of which was the lad ordering Cullen Skink, but we will attend to that later.
We are traveling by automobile and often on the correct side of the motorway. Yet, I must admit, a wee bit of anxiousness swoops in as we motor down tight lanes with lorries approaching. We still have our wing mirrors so, perhaps the fear is baseless. They have chosen to name the vehicle “Sticky-Toffee Kia” and, I must say, it is quite apropos after a night under a sap-dripping tree. My employers have set an ambitious agenda, thus we are seeing much of the country. And, often, we dine well. Dining is my brief, and to that end I will review the week’s culinary experiences shortly.
First, our lodging. I must say things went a wee bit off course after the amazing experience at Ardno House in Glencoe. All the B&Bs were acceptable and they all had something unique or pleasant about them, just not on a par with Glencoe. The disappointing exception was the hotel at Inverness. The room was clean, but “shabby” is an understatement. The carpet needed more than shampoo. The blinds were iffy. We were off in an annex, not in the stately 1880 hotel, and we shared the area with the endless, noisy workers who were remodeling the annex beside us. Dust from their dumpster boiled up past our (open) windows. I will assume this hotel was an anomaly and not an informed decision but hope such a “miss” will not occur again in the future. On the bright side, the bathroom was very clean and included a bathtub! (where the lass did loads of laundry), and the hotel was within walking distance of the very charming downtown area, which included the delightful Fig and Thistle restaurant, about which more later.
Our lodging picked up considerably in Edinburgh at the wonderful Braid Apartments. Lovely, convenient, safe, and a kitchen. Not a proper kitchen, mind you, but nevertheless a welcome oasis among the endless full Scottish breakfast nonsense. Baked beans are NOT a breakfast food. You can read my reasoned essay on that subject in the November issue of Stately Scotland, vol 41, pp 35-52.
Dining was varied this week. I am not sure what to make of the practice of skipping a full meal on most days and replacing said meal with bread and fruit, or a pastry or ice cream. Not the soundest nutritional path followed here. But there were bright spots. The Fig and Thistle in Inverness was high among them. We ate upstairs in a quaint, sunny room with only three other tables and a perfectly attentive wait staff. The restaurant emphasized Asian flavors. The lass had crispy chile chicken and stir-fry veggies over noodles. The lad enjoyed grilled salmon and rice in a coconut curry sauce with green beans. We concluded the meal with a first for my employers, Sticky Toffee Pudding - similar in taste and texture to American gingerbread with superb toffee sauce and vanilla ice cream.
The Magnum in Edinburgh was also a treat. The travelers were in a mood for a light supper, and they ordered starter plates. My lass chose another first for her, the traditional Scottish dish of haggis (sausage meat mixed with grain and spices) with neeps (cabbage) and tatties (mashed potatoes), served with outstanding spicy mustard sauce. Her choice was not a complete surprise, considering her adventurous culinary nature and well-developed taste. She can discern the nuances of a dish with parsley versus one with chives. The lad says “There is something green bobbing in my soup.” Poor dear. However, the lad ordered Cullen Skink! Jings, crivens, and help mah boab! Oh, sorry, I did not mean to slip into the crofter accent I first learned, but really! He seemed not only to order un-coerced but may actually have enjoyed the traditional Scottish creamy potato soup with bacon, onions, and smoked haddock. He does love a good smoky flavor. Well, good on him, I say. I hope we have broken the logjam of fish & chips for a diet staple.
The last meal in Scotland was somehow booked in a French restaurant. Not sure how this occurred, however, it was a masterful choice that I am certain the lass made. Fresh bread, pate with pickled onion, spicy dijon mustard, dill pickle, and buttered toast was a lovely start to the dinner, and then it got even better. Salmon, cookbook perfect, with sautéed broccolini and blue carrot puree, and presentation worthy of a painting. The delectable meal was followed with Viennese cappuccino and a classic french fruit tart.
We are off this morning for London via train. Ought to be a delightful trip, and I am excited to be in the City again.
I remain, Your humble servant,
Respectfully submitted,
Miss Rowena Brambleglen
