This weekend has been wild and windy, the wind blowing loudly round the house and rain lashing against the windows. The sort of wind that brings to mind the book the Secret Garden where Mary “lay and hated the sound of the heavily beating rain, she hated the wind and its wuthering.” Listening to the wind swirling past you can understand what is meant by the word wuthering, the wind gusts and howls, almost alive, screeching it’s frenzy as it tries to blow away the house. Stepping outside is a battle with the door as you pull hard to close it and the wind rushes into the living room with a rush of glee. Even with layers of clothes the wind still finds the gaps, chilling you to the bone.
The wind also causes damage, in the night our fence blew down leaving a gaping gap into the next door garden. The dog approached warily, barking at the fence, as if it had moved to spite him. At first he was scared to approach, wondering what magical force had moved the fence. When it was dark he discovered that he had access to the neighbours garden and set off on a joyous venture into the unknown. I was worried, I wasn’t sure if the side of the neighbours house had access to the road and had visions of him getting run over. I gave chase, barefooted, wearing my dressing gown and pyjamas. I stepped into the neighbours garden and ended up ankle deep in a pond. I did manage to capture the dog, who thought it was a new game. Not one I intend playing again soon.
Weather like this calls for soul warming food. Food that is slowly cooked releasing a glorious smell into the kitchen, making a promise of what is to come. A Scotch Broth fitting the weather perfectly, a lamb joint simmering in a pot with vegetables and pearl barley being added slowly. Gradually simmering down to make a warming and comforting meal enjoyed with home cooked bread.
A dull looking bowlful, the pleasure comes in eating it. A mouthful warms you up from the inside and it is incredibly filling, a meal in itself. You can’t hurry a scotch broth, it needs to be cooked slowly and simmered until the meat is falling off the bone and the liquid has thickened. You can imagine this being cooked on huge pots over an open fire, with whatever meat and vegetables were handy being thrown in.
A view of a loch in the foreground would be obligatory and rolling heather filled hills disappearing into the background behind a village of crofters huts. When the soup is ready the lamb is shredded from the bone and added the the bowls, the broth being poured around it. Silence would fall as the meal was enjoyed.
My family enjoyed eating the Scotch Broth as well, warming and filling it was the perfect meal for the cold weather. It is surprisingly filling, one bowl was sufficient and I did not feel like eating again for some time after. It was worth the wait and the anticipation as the smell drifted though the kitchen.
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