A few days in Scotland

We've had a spate of holidays recently, which has been lovely, although the diary now stretches empty ahead of us until the back end of October. Sigh. Still, my digestion, liver and credit card all definitely need a bit of a rest, so I am hoping for some decent weather over the next few months so I can take up residence on our new outdoor decking and dedicate myself wholeheartedly to drinking tea and catching up with my Goodreads Reading Challenge.

The two "big" meals I will cover in a separate post, but in between the Michelin star, high-end deliciousness we still managed some excellent eating.

Firstly, we spent a quiet few days on the shores of Loch Fyne and, of course, we had to eat oysters at every given opportunity:

I also made it a personal goal to get thoroughly stuck in to the local venison; putting away both a loin, cooked to absolute blush-pink perfection:

And haunch shredded into a tender heap and piled into fabulously messy tacos:

Then to Glasgow, and my first lunch in the city found me sampling my first ever vegan burger - do you know, I really enjoyed it. It didn't have quite the mouthfeel of meat but the taste was rich and savoury. I will never be other than a carnivore, but I certainly wouldn't argue if someone served me up one of these in future. The beetroot bun wasn't quite up to the task of containing everything though, so I did end up eating it with a knife and fork. The shame.

We were primarily in Glasgow to go the TRNSMT festival and we were primarily at the TRNSMT festival to see Pulp play. What we learned while we were there: we are old. Festivals are not for the likes of us, even if we were of an age where we remembered the headline act being in the charts (as opposed to the majority of the audience who WEREN'T EVEN BORN IN THE 90s). The food and drink at the festival itself was not great, which, when you consider the amazing boom in street food vendors over the last few years was rather disappointing. Still, we consoled ourselves the following day with a meal at Glasgow stalwart, The Ubiquitous Chip. More venison, this time in the form of haggis (here hidden under a veil of swede and gravy):

And, of particular note, a couple of excellent desserts. D's peanut butter parfait with milk chocolate and yoghurt sorbet:

And my mango and passionfruit Rum Baba (not quite enough rum for my tastes, but forgiven since it was bursting with zingy tropical flavours):

Day 4: Glasgow/Jura - road to nowhere

I am sitting outside of the only hotel on the Isle of Jura. To my left, the distillery and a scattering of houses. In front, a swathe of sea.  There might be a local shop hereabouts but I wouldn't bet good money on it, we are about as remote as it gets.

We primarily came to visit the distillery and, indeed, I am not sure what else would attract tourists to this tiny, beautiful, peaceful little corner of the Hebrides. Jura whisky is a thing of beauty - far lighter than is common in island single malts (which, we learned today, is because they have the second tallest stills in all of Scotland). But getting here is a labour of love, requiring a trip on the tiniest car ferry you ever did see (if you're fifth in the queue, you're waiting for the next one).

Food thus far today has been sporadic and uninspiring - a drab bacon roll on the ferry from Kennacraig to Islay and a Magnum (when did they get so sickly?) waiting for the crossing to Jura. I couldn't leave this post, therefore, without mentioning last night's dinner at Glasgow's Bread Meats Bread - a dirty burger joint par excellence. My pastrami melt was stunningly good and D did a lot of fervent nodding when asked about his burger.

We also ordered a side of poutine, out of 50% curiosity and 50% greed. If you've not come across this Canadian delicacy before, it consists of chips, a thick, meaty gravy and squeaky cheese curds. It is a rather odd thing - not in the least unpleasant but one of those food combinations that makes you wonder how anyone thought to invent such a thing.

We suspect that you have to be born Canadian to truly appreciate it.

Day 3: Glasgow - the most important meal

The forecast is gloomy for the rest of the fortnight but today, at least, we were blessed with clear skies and sunshine which made the walk down Sauchiehall Street to Kelvingrove a pleasant one. I like Kelvingrove, which in size and range of exhibits reminds me of the British Museum. It is a pleasant place to dip into for an hour or so. And the Dali painting, "Christ of St John of the Cross" is stunning enough to warrant the trip alone.

We've enjoyed two excellent breakfasts while we have been here, both of which venues I need to commend to your attention, although they are completely different.

I think that I wrote about Babu Bombay Street Kitchen when we were here last year but it merits a revisit. Set below street level, its unprepossessing appearance doesn't immediately catch the eye and the decor is quirky and functional rather than luxurious. But the breakfast there, consisting of a mere six items (up from last year's three) is fabulous. I enjoyed the bhurji pau, spicy scrambled eggs, for a second year running, D went for the bacon and omelette roti wrap, both dishes washed down with excellent coffee. If we were here another day, I'd be going back there for lunch.

But at the other end of the scale we have Cafe Gandolfi, a new one for us this visit. Judging from the number of people there when we turned up on Sunday morning, it appears to be a pretty popular destination and with good reason - the breakfast menu reads like a dream and the kitchen more than delivers. I could have ordered pretty much everything on there but decided to opt for pancakes with fruit, yoghurt and syrup. The pancakes were fluffy, the yoghurt was rich and ever so slightly sweetened and the fresh berries were ripe and luscious. Meanwhile, D went for Eggs Hebridean - which is Eggs Benedict with black pudding instead of ham. Judging by the speed at which the not inconsiderable plateful disappeared, I think it got the thumbs up from him.

I'll be sad to leave this wonderful city tomorrow but our next stop is the Isle of Jura - where whisky and venison surely await. 

Day 2: Sterling/Glasgow - stepping out

According to my Fitbit, I have walked nearly 13,000 steps already today. Given that on a normal, deskbound day I might not even break the back of 3,000 this is one hell of an improvement. My feet are hot and dusty of sole and making their disapproval known through the medium of aching. But keeping vaguely active is hopefully the key to keeping any holiday weight gain to a minimum.

Last night we spent in Sterling where we enjoyed a decent curry followed by a wee dram in an adorable little pub that looked like it had been set up in someone's living room. Albeit someone who owned several hundred bottles of whisky.

And then this morning we skipped across to Glasgow. On the agenda: modern art and Mackintosh. Oh, and ticking off the new Glasgow Brewdog bar, Doghouse, which is situated in the Merchant City part of the, er, city. Yes, that is a second Brewdog in two days and there will be another one tomorrow. I would judge us too. The food here was lovely though - smoked meats and the kind of side dishes that you expect to see on Triple D. We shared a small portion of pulled pork, Mac and cheese and house pickles.

I continue to find new things to love about Glasgow; it's a fascinating, varied city jostling with amazing architecture. Edinburgh is more immediately beautiful but Glasgow, the scrappy younger* sibling is, I think, more endearing.

*(I actually don't know whether Glasgow is the younger city but I'm ignoring fact for the purposes of metaphor).