The food is free in Scotland
I grew up on the West Coast of Scotland. My family are sailors, which has shaped my love of seafood; We would always say “If you live on the Sea, then live off the Sea.”
The normal fare (like mince and potatoes) was there of course, but so were lots of found, begged, caught, stolen and captured delights from the sea and foreshore. We did not have a fridge on our boat, so ‘fresh’ wasn’t an option; it was a necessity.
In late summer the mackerel are running. There were so many of them that the hard part was knowing when to stop fishing. You put over a trawling line with five hooks, wait one minute and pull onboard five beautiful fat shiny fish. Crack their heads back, gutted in two cuts and under the grill. Meanwhile, someone is heading ashore to buy fresh salted chips…
In the late spring and early summer we would get up early and row our dinghy quietly up to one of the hundreds of tiny uninhabited islands that are the nesting grounds for seagulls and ducks. The rules were very strict; you only take an egg from a nest with four or more eggs in it; you only take one egg per nest; you never ever touch any of the eggs you leave behind. Back to the boat and the freshest scrambled wild eggs that nature can provide.
We had a ‘creel’ on board, which is a pot for catching crabs. Before going to sleep we would find a rocky looking piece of seabed, and drop the trap to the bottom. After breakfast, pick it up and you would usually have between five and ten nice looking crabs. Boil, crack, crunch; pate for lunch.
We had some secrets too. Over the years my family had found a number of beaches where the shape of the shingle and the depth of the tide were just right. Gumboots on (we call them Wellies) at low tide and slowly back and forth at the edge of the water. They are hard to spot initially, but once you get your eye in you could fill a bucket with oysters in an hour. Gin, tonic, lemon, oysters; the Ritz doesn’t get close to our wee boat.
Sometimes we had to be resourceful, and make friends with local fishermen. I remember sheltering in a small anchorage from a vicious storm. We had been there for a few days when a prawn boat came in for respite from the heavy seas. Over we went to see them. “Have you got anything you can’t sell?” SLAP, a huge monkfish lands in the bottom of our dinghy almost bouncing me out of it…. We survived off this beast for a couple of days!
So the stories you hear of Scottish food; dead-fried this and that? – rumours started by our jealous neighbours. For me, Scottish food is fresh, wild & tasty. And you?
RSS
Comments
Freya Burton
July 9th, 2010 at 2:56 pm
As beautiful and fresh as the seafood of Scotland can be, you really can’t beat a plate of stovies on a cold winter night! Stovies are essentially potatoes and onions, fried together with salt and pepper (generally fried leftovers!). The best I ever had was leaving a cailidh at Edinburgh Castle one snowy Boxing Day. After 5 hours of dancing and a (few) dram(s), nothing quite hit the spot like the bowl of stovies and warm oatcakes they served up as we left to toddle home over icy cobblestones!
Another favourite for cold winter (or summer) days, is Cullen Skink soup. A thick soup made with smoked haddock, potatoes and onions. This was a special treat when visiting my family up in Thurso (very near John O’ Groats) which I always asked for. We developed a rather nice variation on croutons by crushing cheese and onion crisps and sprinkling them on top…ahhh!
Bark Murton
July 9th, 2010 at 3:16 pm
Fond memories from 2 ends of the spectrum:
1. a haggis supper whilst sitting in the car next to Helensburgh pier, rain coming in sideways; and
2. sharing the admiral’s platter at the Wide-mouthed Frog in Oban with my new fiancee – langoustines, crab, scallops – the lobster was still in the harbour when we ordered! That was the only time I have ever pushed aside the gravlax on account of it being the most boring part of a dish!
Yus Yusof
July 9th, 2010 at 4:45 pm
Mussels mussels everywhere
One of my fondest memory of Scottish food is picking wild mussels of rocks at low tide off an anchorage somewhere on the west coast of Scotland.
We once sailed and anchored in a hidden spot as the tide was ebbing out. The shoreline was thick with rocks. Only through binoculars could we see that the rocks were thick with wild mussels, as far as the eye could see. We jumped off our boat onto a dinghy armed with buckets and spades. Quick row onto the shore to claw out as many mussels as our fingers could stand in the freezing cold sea. Quick row back onboard the boat to clean and cook. Fresh mussels eaten with butter and garlic sauce with a gin & tonic while the sun sets….
Doug Gerry
July 10th, 2010 at 9:57 pm
Thanks David for romantic idea that free food is plentiful in Scotland and indeed I had my share growing up in Dundee. Guddling trout in rivers around Angus, Whelks from Stanergate, berries from the plentiful fruit farms that we used to get grossly underpaid to pick, flounder from the Tay. But should point out the un romantic side to free food from Scotland, Free Dinners given to the under privileged children at school who were tagged with this stigma throughout their education. Another un romantic verse is the Chinese restaurants of the late 60s/Early 70s who had to pay the prize for naivety and not get paid for meals they provided by thugs who had a number of ways of getting out of paying. I am sure you know of a few of the schemes I am speaking about.
Bill O'Neill
July 12th, 2010 at 2:02 am
I had to think about it a bit, but yes, I agree with a comment made already. The food id fresh, well prepared and tends to be healthful. And Indian Scottish food is A1. Does that count? Have to say though, the Fish and Chips I’ve had have not measured up to New Scotland. I’ll have a two piece order of deep fried haddock with sweet potato fries please.And a Rickard’s red ale.
What is single best food to be enjoyed in NZ, aside from Yus’s Malaysian delights?
Geeze, Im hungry!
John Glen
July 12th, 2010 at 12:12 pm
My early memories of Scottish food is more based on events and locations rather than the quality or nutritious value of the food. In the east end of Glasgow small bands of boys would traverse away from their safe abode through adjoining districts to the Glasgow council public baths & indoor swimming pool. Close to Whiteville baths there was a cake shop where for a couple of pence we each bought ‘droppies’ – A big overflowing bag of damaged mixed scones, cakes & savories that the women who served in the shop put aside for the under 10 year olds. This kept us going as we ran the gauntlet through the two adjoining districts to return to our home base, occasionally loosing the bag contents as we were chased by the local ‘gangs’. (I ended up a better runner than swimmer)
Later going to old firm football games, buying a couple of hot mutton pies was a delight on cold winter afternoons. The technique of eating the pies was to rip a hole in the side of the pasty (As soon as possible) then hold it up to a high level and drink the liquid lard before it congealed, until the pie dried out. This action occasional had to be briefly curtailed and the pie protected, as some disgruntled fans had a habit of peeing into empty Tenants lager cans then hurling them over the heads of their fellow fans, somersaulting the contents in a wide arc.
A special treat as a small child was when my grandmother made a clootie dumpling – flour, breadcrumbs, sultanas and currants, suet wrapped in a clean rag & boiled for a few hours then dried out over the fire. She had a special collection silver thruppenie coins that we were keen to locate & keep for a while, as well as bearing in mind to avoid swallowing them in the mix.
Daily school dinners kept us going but the teaches had an unfortunate habit of publicly grading the children’s weekly ticketing purchase queue by ‘means testing’. Each Monday morning I paid the upper level cost (For the same meals as the others) of three shillings & sixpence per week as my father had a job, the poorer kids had to wait & queue in diminishing order (E.g. Two shillings, eleven pence, one shilling eleven pence etc) until the last ones were issued ‘free’ tickets.
Leave a Comment