Scotch Whisky Revelations, alongside some Shortbread & Haggis

I’m not the pheasant plucker

I’m the pheasant plucker’s son

I’m always plucking pheasants

‘til the pheasant pluckings done

(silly tongue twister)

I may not remember the wording perfectly – perhaps it’s my mind nearly 25 years later, or perhaps it’s the Single Malt Scotch Whisky I undoubtedly had in my system. But what I do remember clearly, is that my trip to Northern Scotland was filled with food and drink memories.

The Beauty of Scotland

It was February 1997 and I was in northern Scotland for business (visiting the Walkers Shortbread and Baxter’s Soup factories). While I was traveling alone, I never really felt alone.

I arrived at the Craigellachie Hotel, which is nestled on the banks of the River Spey , at the heart of Speyside and the malt whisky trail. Chilled and tired from my travels, I was warmly greeted with a Welcome Scotch. I brought it directly up to my room, where I desired to snuggle up with a book and relax before heading down to dinner. As I cradled the Scotch whisky in my hand, I paused. I was a beer drinker, and Scotch neophyte. I wondered if I should I just hold my breath and sip it up.

I then peeked out my window, and there, on the other bank of the River Spey, sat the Macallan Estate. The snowflakes fell on the quiet landscape, and I knew what I had to do: “Yes, drink it,” I told myself. “You’ll never have this opportunity again!”

My Introduction to Haggis

That evening, I was joined by one of the Walker family for dinner at the hotel. My hostess was determined to make sure make sure I enjoyed the full Scottish experience (aside from leaning about family’s famous shortbread), and promptly requested a bit of haggis for me to taste. Of course, I was hesitant, but after she provided me with origins and stories of this sausage-like dish, I was willing to give it a try, (well, as a food writer, I had to indulge in the food set before me). We followed up with a delightful dinner consisting of char-grilled Aberdeen Angus, accompanied by the history of the Angus’ origins in the region, which date back to the 16^th century, and how it is considered an integral part of the Scottish way of life.

With dinner complete, we retired to the drawing room to enjoy a warming cup of tea followed by one of her favorites, a Macallan 12. Knowing that I only took one sip of my welcome Scotch upon arrival, which elicited a shudder throughout my body, I graciously settled in while she briefed me about how it is made, the history and flavor profiles to enjoy.  

As the evening came to an end, we bid farewell until the following day when I would visit the family’s shortbread factory. I climbed the stairs to my room. Outside the wind was whipping across the moors, rattling the windows. I walked over and took a peek out the window at the lights shining on the distillery across the way, then grabbed the welcome Scotch and sat down to enjoy it. I now had a greater appreciation for the burst of flavors inside. I was sold. 

A Drive in Northern Scotland

The remainder of the trip proved to be just as enlightening as that evening. After two more days of business – visiting both the Walkers Shortbread and Baxter’s Soup factories, I followed up with two days of playing tourist. Luckily, the Walker family loaned me a car, and sent me on my way winding through the roads, gently reminding me to “stay on the left side of the road.” 

Of course, I received a few raised fists from other drivers as I occasionally found myself on the wrong side of the road, but I eventually made my way to Elgin, and the famed Johnston Mills shop. I then headed to Inverness, passing close to the North Sea, stopping on occasion to get a closer look at the castles and famous battlefields. I was still nervous about driving, but I decided to push on to the Loch Ness Visitors Center. After all, when would I be back in Northern Scotland? 

I was exhausted by the end of the day – the driving really sucked the energy from me. So, I was more than willing to settle back into the Craigellachie next to the fire with my new friend, Macallan. 

The next day brought a bright blue sky with temperatures in the upper 30s. A perfect day for a walk on the Speyside Way. Heading towards Dufftown, I ventured on my 5 mile walk on a winding trail through the countryside, occasionally meeting up with the Spey River. I was alone, and longed for someone to to enjoy the experience with, and I also longed for the distilleries to be open on a Sunday so I could visit!

This was the trip that gave me a greater understanding of food and drink I might not otherwise enjoy (think haggis) or appreciate (think Scotch). While I have yet to indulge in eating haggis again, I’ve happily indulged in some Macallan 12 through the years, and have learned to appreciate Scotch whisky, even expanding my horizons to Irish whisky varieties (OK, my dad helped me do that!).

Still on my list of things to do is to return to Craigellachie with my husband, and partake in the Malt Whisky trail with him by my side. Until the time when we can freely travel again, I dig into my memories, pull out a bottle of Macallan, and remind myself of the joys of food and drink from Scotland, and then attempt that silly little tongue twister:

I’m not the pleasant fu . . . oops!