No lesser authority than Dr Samuel Johnson, creator of the first English dictionary, considered Scottish breakfasts to be things of wonder. He went as far as to suggest that any lover of food “wherever he had supped he would breakfast in Scotland.” Quite a compliment when you consider that Dr Johnson is on record as calling Scotland “a very vile country”, among other derogatory remarks.
Having just visited Glasgow, I have to say I disagree totally with his negative view of Scotland, but concur with his praise of a full Scottish breakfast. As many of you will know, it is a supercharged version of a full English and well worth looking back at. Admittedly, it’s not the healthiest thing you can eat at the start of the day, weighing in at something like 800 calories. Apparently writing burns about 46 calories an hour, so if it takes me 16 hours to finish this post I will have worked off the equivalent of a fantastic spread of egg, bacon, beans, tomatoes, mushrooms, tattie scones, Lorne sausage, black pudding, white pudding and butteries. Little wonder that when you Google “full Scottish breakfast images” two of the linked search suggestions are “massive” and “large”.
Websites like foodfornet.com can give you more details about the components of this amazing way to start the day (and don’t worry, great vegan alternatives are out there too), but a brief overview here should make most mouths water.
Tattie scones (aka potato scones) are made from freshly mashed potatoes (not left-overs) made into a sort of dough with plain flour and then rolled out to be cooked on a griddle. They provide the basis for the other glories on the plate, which include the Lorne sausage (traditionally made from minced beef and not cased or tubular like regular sausages, but cooked flat and rectangular in a tin). White pudding, also known as ‘mealy pudding’ is similar to black pudding but made without blood. Sometimes pork or pork liver is included, as are leeks and onions. To accompany these delights there are the butteries (or Aberdeen rowies): savoury bread rolls, not unlike croissants. In fact, some people refer to them as ‘roadkill croissants’ due to their flat shape.
Given all this tradition, it is curious that the earliest mention I could find of a “full Scottish breakfast” in the British Newspaper Archives was 16th September 1971, when the Esso Motor Hotel, Edinburgh, ran an advert in the Aberdeen Press and Journal telling readers that they were “right out of asses’ milk… but foam baths are on the house” and extolling their “full Scottish breakfast” and “modern comfort-planned bedrooms” – all for £5 a night. Maybe before the 1970s, there was no need to mention the word ‘full’ when discussing Scottish breakfasts. The implication was always there, given Dr Johnson’s comments and a report in the Worcester Herald of 10th October 1829 which noted that “smoked Solan geese are well known as contributing to the abundance of a Scottish breakfast”. Not just full – abundance. Mind you, the writer goes on to warn that the geese “are too rank and fishy-flavoured for unpractised palates.”
We can’t leave the subject of Scottish breakfasts without mentioning porridge, which is also a battleground for ‘unpractised palates’: the Scottish way is with water and salt; English sugar and milk (as far as I can tell).
And there is a nice ‘collision’ between England and Scotland in a porridge story connected to Robert the Bruce; less well-known (to me at any rate) than his spider one, but pretty entertaining. According to the tale told by Simon Sprotte in the Roscommon and Leitrim Gazette of 16th November, 1822, King Robert was in mortal combat with an English knight, Walter Selby, when a clearly formidable local woman (Mrs Sprotte) intervened and dragged Selby down by his hair, causing him to surrender.
Both men came to her cottage, where the prisoner Selby was informed of the identity of his opponent and, naturally, very impressed, although he made a faux pas in Mrs Sprotte’s view by not calling him ‘King Robert’. Selby was brusquely told that if he didn’t use the correct form of address, Mrs Sprotte was going to throw a “boiling hot beverage, called Brose [a kind of porridge], in your English face, well flavoured though it may be.” The beverage, presumably, not the English face.
King Robert intervened and said he would like to have breakfast, so Mrs S rustled up a bowl of “the favourite breakfast of Caledonia” and served her monarch. She only provided one spoon, however, as she didn’t want it known that she might have “cherished and feasted our mortal foe.” Bread and water were more appropriate for Selby in her opinion. Robert saluted this fierce loyalty by telling her that he would grant her and her ancestors whatever was the amount of land she could run round before he finished his breakfast.
Having cannily locked the rest of the spoons away first, off she went. According to the story she ignored an injured fox and a miller who was sleeping while his kiln burnt down because she didn’t want to be waylaid and lose the chance for a sizeable plot of land.
When she returned, she found the King and Selby happily sharing the porridge with the one spoon she had left. The King announced that, henceforth, the Sprottes of Orr would live on at the newly named ‘Kings-mount’ and whenever Kings of Scotland passed through, they would be served brose by the Sprotte family from the very bowl that Robert had used that day.
True story? Legend? Who knows, but if Mrs Sprotte had been in that cave in the other Bruce tale, I rather doubt the spider would have got a third go at spinning its web. And, while we can all be sure that Dr Johnson would not have called Scotland a “vile country” within her earshot, perhaps the lesson of the day is that food (and especially Scottish breakfast) can be a unifying force.
SteveTLooksBack 