Haggis Lasagne and a Lovely Giveaway

Since moving to Scotland my favourite cookery writer has been Sue Larwence. What I love most about her books is how she doesn’t just share recipes, she shares stories. She travels Scotland writing down why the folks of St. Kildan would boil a puffin in their porridge for flavour, or how Isle of Mull Cheddar is made from Friesian-cross Brown Swiss cows, is unpasteurised and most importantly, is matured for at least 10 months.

My favourite of her books, A Cook’s Tour of Scotland: From Barra to Brora in 120 Recipes, is divided into sections that are dedicated to the many gastronomic foundations for which Scotland is known. This list includes but is not limited to: Venison, Lamb, Salmon, Lobster and Crab, Haddock and Herring, Black Pudding, Kale, Potatoes, Bacon, Seaweed, Oats, Barley, Raspberries, Honey and Cream.

And of course…Haggis.

It is true that haggis is not for everyone. However, it remains the single food tourists seem to be required to sample while they are here. I won’t go into how it’s made, because you can look that up if you are brave enough. I will say however that the trick to enjoying haggis, like with any food, is quality.

Good company always helps as well. Like the North American tradition of cooking a Thanksgiving turkey each autumn, the day on which practically every household in Scotland cooks haggis is 25 January, also known as Robert Burns Night. I lived for a year in the freezing northeast of British Columbia, but come late January, there was a community Burn’s Supper. There was even a piper. True he was the only one in a several hundred mile radius, but it was, after all, the middle of nowhere. Scottish culture is nothing if not far reaching.

Despite the tradition of serving Scotland’s national dish with “neeps and tatties” (ie: turnips and potatoes), there is no culinary law requiring you to stick with these as side dishes. One of the best meals I’ve ever had was a breast of chicken stuffed with haggis, in a whisky cream sauce. I have also seen haggis done in fantastic little crunchy filo parcels.

One of my most beloved of Lawrence’s recipes is that for Haggis Lasagne. In fact, I have only just finished making enough Haggis Lasagne for 20 people, which I will take to work with me tomorrow for my colleagues to devour.

As usual, one must start with a haggis. I used Simon Howie’s, as it’s lovely and dark and has a good peppery flavour.

Like many of Lawrence’s recipes, this one is very simple and does not call for many ingredients. The haggis is cooked according to directions (I wrapped mine in foil and boiled it for 45 minutes), then cut open and some is crumbled on the bottom of a buttered baking dish. The haggis and lasagne are layered, along with a single layer of cut tomatoes.
A final layer of haggis and lasagne, then the whole thing is drowned in a white sauce made with butter, flour and milk. Finally, it is sprinkled with parmesan and drizzled with olive oil and baked for an hour. Ta-da:
If you haven’t realized already, I should note that as with many Scottish foods, it does feel a bit like a heart attack on a plate. Best eaten occasionally, with a big salad.

Perhaps I could have chosen a different recipe from Sue’s book. The Shortbread Toffee Crumble Ice Cream Bars tend to catch people’s attention. Then there are two versions of Orkney Fudge Cheesecake. Or Porridge Scones with Cream and Brown Sugar.

All the same, one lucky person can try them all, as I have a copy of A Cook’s Tour of Scotland to give away!
This wonderful book is perfect for anyone who not only loves to cook, but also enjoys hearing the stories behind a nation’s favourite foods. There are some beautiful old black and white photos from the author’s childhood as well (including a charming shot of her holding two ice cream cones and grinning like there is no tomorrow).

If you would like to be included in this draw, just leave a comment below. Yes, I do airmail! If you don’t have a blog to link to but would still like to enter, please email me your name to scotland4thesenses@googlemail.com and include “Mmmm…haggis” in the subject line. The only person not eligible for this month’s giveaway is last month’s winner (sorry, Marcheline! Hope you are enjoying your whisky treats).

I’ll leave this open for a week, and make the deadline to get your name in Sunday 19 July. On the Monday I’ll ask my beloved Scotsman to fish out the name from the hat, after which I shall contact the winner to get address details. Easy peasy, lemon Squeezy!

Until then, happy cooking…

**This giveaway has now ended. Congratulations Pyzahn for winning the cookbook.***

A road for motorcyclists

Driving in the northwest of Scotland toward Ullapool, we descended into this valley. I could only think of my friends who ride motorcycles, and how they would love this.

How to be Swedish in Scotland

When the day arrives that you visit Edinburgh (and that day will arrive, lest you be haunted by these cobbled streets and gorgeous stones forever), then you should chose a bright afternoon to walk down to The Meadows.

If you take aim from George IV Bridge, that means that just before you arrive at the wide, beautiful park with its tree-lined paths, you will see a take-away coffee cart. Ignore the take-away coffee cart. Then you will see a Starbucks. Definitely ignore the Starbucks. Just a little further and there you will be, at Peter's Yard, one of the finest bakeries in the city.

Everything here is just so...good. The food, even the coffee, seems to have been crafted. Here the spirit of culinary alchemy is alive and well, and deserving of your affections.

I have not tried everything they have to offer, but I can, with lurching sensual desire, recommend the chocolate mousse.
On a fine day this is one of the best places in Edinburgh to sit outside and watch the people wander or cycle past. On a rainy day, the open, light space inside the cafe will hold you in warmth for hours. Glance up from your book to let your eyes peruse the shelf of single-source chocolate, then reach slowly for the bowl-like mug that holds your cooling mocha. Your fork punches through flaky pastry, through poached pear and into almond paste. Your mouth becomes a hammock for a commune of flavours.A lingering afternoon visit to Peter's Yard will (and I say this with the utmost confidence, built from intimate knowledge) precede several hours of faraway glances, crooked grins and languid, contented sighs. So when you visit Edinburgh, which you know you will, you should chose a bright day and take a walk down to The Meadows. Just make sure you call me first...

The beauteous bulk of Dunblane Cathedral

It is easy to dub Dunblane Cathedral a “no frills” kind of place. It sits like a hulk above the River Allan, its checkerboard tower denoting time, destruction, and renewal. There are no collections of detailed turrets or immaculate carvings of great men.

Even the headstones that surround the structure are a testament to practicality. No swooning angels or praying cherubs, just sensible rounded stones denoting sensible tales of life and death.

The doorways however, even with their sturdy bulk, are utterly gorgeous. The black iron creeps along the worn wood like scorched vines, while the deep recesses of smoothed stones cradle and unfurl, cradle and unfurl.

Walking inside feels like stepping into a pop-up book. Suddenly you are surrounded by a huge silent space, a thousand tiny details coming into view every time you shift your gaze. I learned that the nave was without a roof for around 300 years, which is why much of the interior of the cathedral looks almost as worn as the outside.

At the far end of the cathedral you walk up a small spiral staircase to a gallery, where you can look straight toward the nave and down at the rows of pews, where purple hymn books are waiting to be opened. Above the large columns and arches are another row of small arched windows, through which the light emits a glow like the kind you see in documentaries about people and their experiences in the afterlife.


There are two windows where the dominate hue is blue. To look at them, the sky is erased and the world becomes the shifting sea, all those moving tones, starting at a whitecap and sinking all the way to black.

If you don’t look carefully it is easy to miss the dozens of little carved wooden figures and animals that inhabit the ends of many of the pews. My favourites are a beaver frozen in mid-nibble, and a blissed-out camel.

The massive organ is also locked inside an intricate casing of wooden carvings. Try as I might I could not find the right angle to photograph it which would demonstrate just how small it made me feel to stand beneath it.




There isn’t an old building in Scotland that does not hold on to at least one tale of human drama. Resting beneath the slabs of Dunblane Cathedral are Margaret Drummond and her two sisters, Eupheme and Sibylla. Margaret had been the mistress of King James IV. They had a daughter and it is rumoured that Margaret had even secretly married the King. In 1501 Margaret and her two sisters all died suddenly of food poisoning in Drummond Castle.

Despite death by accidental food poisoning being fairly common in the 16th century, it was alleged that in a bid to clear a political path that would allow James IV to marry England’s Princess Margaret, some noblemen had deliberately poisoned the Drummond sisters. If she hadn’t died, and had the King married Miss Drummond instead of his English bride, the “union of the crowns” between Scotland and England may never have happened.
For its unassuming, charming mass and hollow, quiet interior, Dunblane Cathedral is hereby one of my favourites. If you are ever in the Stirling area and have a chance to visit, be sure you do.