Scottish cuisine
Scotland is a country I am particularly fond of. Not because I am actually Scottish in any way – nor do I have any Scottish heritage – but because I adore the food.
Now, the Scots are not renowned for their cuisine. Generally speaking, they’re somewhat teased about it on the international food scene. Their eagerness to deep fry everything that moves (from the humble Mars Bar to the noble haggis) has resulted in an underwhelming impact on the world of delicious food and a high rate of heart disease. (Whether or not the Scottish heart disease problem actually stems from deep fried haggis hasn’t actually been validated by the scientific community, but when you’re digesting five hundred grams of batter and half a pint of scotch every evening then you’re bound to feel the effects after a few years.)
Still, I like it. I remember the first time I had real Scottish fish and chips. I drove into Ullapool, a small fishing town on the coast of Scotland. There were strange signs everywhere, warning me of deep lochs and, confusingly, “car insurance northern Ireland”. When I ordered my chips, I could smell they were slightly different.
The steam was rising from them in a way I hadn’t seen before. They were fresh, clearly, and the oil was new. But the oil was different. The cod looked different as well, sort of crisper. I couldn’t imagine what magical oil they could have used. Almond? Sunflower? Extra virgin olive? She asked if I wanted juice on my chips. I said no but asked what oil they used.
“Oh, no. No no. We use lard. Mm.”
Welcome to Scotland.
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