Why these great Scottish puddings should be central to our culinary renaissance – Stephen Jardine
Some smart chef needs to start a Scottish version of the Pudding Club in the Cotswolds
There is much to love about autumn. For a start, it’s not summer with its dashed expectations of heat and sunshine. Nor is it winter, dark and never ending, or spring with its hay fever and Strictly contestant look-at-me daffodils.
Autumn is different. Blazing fires, thick jumpers, scarlet foliage and the smell of woodsmoke drifting in the air. But best of all is the food, and here in Scotland that is something we do very well.
When you read about new restaurant openings, it’s always some place serving Peruvian sushi or the spinach hot pots of Burkina Faso. Food from Guatemala will have a queue of Instagram creators salivating around the block while somewhere showcasing Galloway will be empty.
Deep-fried everything no more
And good luck trying to spot classic British dishes these days on shows like Masterchef, amongst the jumble of world cooking. New tastes are always interesting but that is not what most of us eat every day so why are we so unwilling to acknowledge our own cuisine?
There was a time when we were right to keep quiet about it. Comedian Mike Myers once said “my theory is that all of Scottish cuisine is based on a dare”. Back in the days of macaroni pies and deep-fried everything, he was probably right.
But much has changed and thanks to hard-working chefs and producers, Scottish food and drink now has a worldwide reputation for excellence.
It's also right here, unlike avocados from Mexico, Dubai chocolate or matcha tea from Japan. In a climate emergency, shouldn’t we be eating what grows naturally much closer to home?
The biggest food news in Edinburgh right now is the opening of Ottolenghi in the city centre. But, apart from fear of missing out, in the dark days of October is anyone really that excited about Fasolakia beans with gochujang and feta cream?
Proper comfort food
In downtown Jerusalem where it’s 28 degrees, that probably tastes delicious but here we have what is actually in season – venison, damsons, pumpkins, pheasant, oysters, and brambles. Autumn food is all about comfort, what you want, rather than what you think you should be eating.
That means hearty stews, proper roasts, duck fat potatoes and what autumn eating is really all about – the end of the meal.
The worst four words in the world are “too full for pudding”.
I’ve always believed there is space for a restaurant where the courses are reversed and pudding is the first thing on the menu. That way you’d always know you had space for it. Who needs starters anyway? They are just lightweight versions of the main course and barely deserve space on the plate.
Puddings, on the other hand, are a proper autumnal indulgence. In the Cotswolds, the Pudding Club meets every Friday night in the Three Ways House Hotel at Mickleton. For £47, guests get a glass of Bucks Fizz, a main course and as much as they can eat from seven traditional puddings.
Sounds good but just imagine a Scottish version? Borders venison then a dram of whisky followed by clootie dumpling, Ecclefechan tart, cranachan, sticky toffee pudding, syrup sponge, and apple crumble and custard. Lots of custard.
Some smart Scottish chef should grasp that opportunity. And if they want an enthusiastic master of ceremonies to preside over the puddings, count me in.
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