The Ultimate Scottish Festive Feast: A BMW M3 CS Touring Odyssey
As the calendar pages flip closer to the Yuletide festivities, the typical image for many in the automotive press is one of opulent showrooms and curated culinary experiences. However, for those of us north of the Scottish border, the reality of assembling a truly authentic Christmas dinner involves a rather more hands-on, and in this case, high-performance, approach. Forget the convenience of a pre-plated meal; the mission is clear: to personally source every component of a three-course festive feast, accompanied by the finest local refreshments, directly from the artisans who craft them. This endeavor, spanning a mere two days, necessitates not only meticulously planned routes but also the perfect set of wheels.
The challenge is immense. Traditionalists will appreciate the impracticality of attempting to transport a prized Christmas turkey in the open luggage compartment of something like a Morgan Super 3. Space is a paramount concern, as is the ability to navigate the often-treacherous Scottish byways. The meteorological office routinely issues dire warnings for wind and rain during this season, turning picturesque landscapes into challenging driving arenas. This is precisely where the BMW M3 CS Touring emerges not merely as a vehicle, but as an indispensable ally in our quest for the ultimate Christmas dinner staples in the UK.
This particular iteration of the M3 Touring is, frankly, a ludicrously capable machine. Designed with an almost obsessive focus on track performance, its specification sheet reads like a petrolhead’s dream. Boasting a formidable 543bhp, an increase of 20bhp over its predecessor, it features extensive use of carbon fibre panels, a 3D-printed cylinder head, a lightweight crankshaft, and suspension enhancements designed to withstand the punishing g-forces of circuit racing. Yet, this track-bred beast proves surprisingly adept at the mundane, transforming our initial leg north from Edinburgh on the M90 towards Loch Leven into a surprisingly serene experience. The special titanium silencer can be hushed with the mere touch of a button, and the suspension, while firm, offers a remarkably muted ride. The only notable sound intrusion comes from the Michelin Pilot Sport 4 S tyres, a testament to their performance, though their roar is heavily dependent on the road surface.
Soon, we deviate from the motorway, venturing onto the damp, narrow, yet delightfully smooth B934, a road that carves its way through the secluded enclaves of Glen Devon and Dunning Glen. The landscape transforms into a painter’s palette of lush greens and rich browns, with hillsides reminiscent of Dr. Seuss’s fantastical creations. In the gearbox’s most relaxed automatic setting, the M3 flows effortlessly, its eight-speed ZF torque converter delivering seamless, well-timed shifts. Despite its considerable width, measuring two metres between its mirrors, the steering is so precise that placing the car feels almost intuitive, allowing us to navigate even the tightest corners with uncanny accuracy – a feat appreciated by at least two startled red squirrels who darted across our path.
Cresting a rise, we spy our first destination: the substantial facility of Simon Howie Butchers, strategically located on the outskirts of Dunning, adjacent to Mr. Howie’s own idyllic farmhouse. This is a genuine Scottish success story. What began as a modest village butcher’s shop has blossomed into a highly respected enterprise, now encompassing two branches in neighbouring towns. More impressively, Simon Howie is a principal supplier to major supermarkets across the UK and holds the distinction of being the nation’s largest producer of haggis, churning out an astonishing 1.3 million units between Christmas and Burns Night alone. This is a significant player in the UK Christmas food market.
Though Mr. Howie is away, operations manager Robbie Crook graciously guides us through his domain. Our first stop is the aptly named “pudding room,” where the rich aroma of black pudding immediately awakens our appetites. However, our primary focus is the haggis itself. This quintessential Scottish dish is a hearty blend of minced pork, beef, and lamb offal, combined with oatmeal, barley, and a secret mix of seasonings. Simon Howie also offers gluten-free and vegetarian variations, with Crook noting that the vegetarian option often serves as a “gateway haggis” for the uninitiated. The facility also produces haggis balls – bite-sized bonbons encased in batter and breadcrumbs – a popular Christmas starter, thus forming a robust foundation for our festive menu. We’ve secured our first Christmas dinner staple.
Next, we move to the sweet- and smoke-scented bacon room. Here, Crook elaborates on the process of creating their signature pigs in blankets. Streaky pork belly cuts are meticulously hand-rubbed with a dry cure, aged for up to ten days, and then smoked for four to six hours over wood chips. These flavourful strips are then machine-sliced and expertly wrapped around succulent pork chipolatas, creating the perfect accompaniment to our main course. With these two vital components secured, we re-enter the M3.
As we depart Dunning, the wind intensifies, and the rain begins to lash down with a vengeance. Our route, a hedgerow-hugging B-road, leads us across a swollen River Earn, teeming with salmon making their determined westward journey to spawn. The sheltered stretches of road begin to shed branches under the assault of the wind, and water collects in roadside ditches. This is unequivocally not the weather for a Morgan Super 3; it’s BMW M3 Touring territory.
The BMW’s rear-biased, yet fully variable, multi-plate clutch M xDrive system performs with remarkable aplomb, faithfully deploying all available power and confidently carving arcs through the bends without a hint of trepidation. The only exception to this unflinching stability occurs when encountering standing water, where the CS exhibits a degree of skittishness. Even with the least track-focused of the available tyre options, it’s clear we’re pushing their boundaries.
We bypass Crieff, continuing our ascent into the rugged expanse of the Sma’ Glen, its slopes adorned with crimson ferns and heather. The road then climbs further into exposed uplands towards Amulree. Set to its supplest mode, the M3’s adaptive suspension ensures a comfortable ride, save for some noticeable reactivity over a couple of particularly bumpy sections on the descent into Dunkeld.
Though sodden, Dunkeld remains a captivating gem. The elegant seven-arch bridge, a testament to Thomas Telford’s engineering prowess, spans the majestic River Tay, guiding us into the heart of this tiny, ancient town. On a narrow lane leading to the 700-year-old cathedral, we skillfully maneuver the BMW into a parking space directly in front of The Clootie Dumpling cafe, our next port of call in our pursuit of a sweet finale.
Mike and Jacinta Cairney’s establishment specializes in the eponymous Scottish spiced cake, a recipe perfected by Mike’s late mother, affectionately known as Granny Margaret. “Mum would make clootie dumpling for our birthday tea, with a 10 pence piece inside,” Mike recalls. “If there was any left, she’d fry it up the next morning with bacon and eggs, haggis, black pudding, and Lorne sausage.” This nostalgic evocation of childhood has become a significant draw for many of the cafe’s patrons. Clootie dumplings are a traditional fixture at weddings, Christmas, and Hogmanay celebrations, underscoring their deep cultural significance in Scottish Christmas traditions.
Jacinta meticulously describes their preparation process. A dry mix of flour, fat, breadcrumbs, raisins, sultanas, brown and white sugar, ginger, and spices is combined with treacle, eggs, and milk, all beaten by hand. A cotton cloth, or ‘cloot,’ is then boiled to scalding point, laid out, and sprinkled with flour to form the characteristic chewy skin. The dumpling mixture is poured into this prepared cloth, which is then tied securely. The entire concoction is then boiled for an impressive four hours. We are presented with a generous, warm slice, accompanied by cream. It is a revelation – subtler and considerably lighter than traditional Christmas pudding – and we depart with a substantial half clootie dumpling, a true treasure.
Navigating through full storm conditions, we steer east towards Angus on saturated country roads. The sheer volume of standing water creates an illusion of driving from the cockpit of an ekranoplan. The subsequent 36 miles pass slowly, with visibility reduced to a mere 200 metres. The 3.0-litre straight-six engine’s twin mono-scroll, 2.1-bar turbos are reduced to a muted sigh, a far cry from their usual vocal performance.
We are immensely grateful for the warm welcome we receive at South Powrie Farm, situated just north of Dundee. Here, we meet Thomas and Susannah Pate, who are dedicated to raising the KellyBronze breed of turkey, renowned for its superior flavour. The Pates raise 600 turkeys annually, birds that, as day-olds, would comfortably fit within the confines of the M3. However, we only require one for our feast, and these impressive birds can reach weights of up to 15kg. Our planned encounter with the flock is thwarted as they have wisely sought refuge from the downpour in their field shelter. We arrange to return the following morning, hoping for a more hospitable sky.
At 8 am, we are greeted by a chaotic symphony of clucks, squawks, and yelps as the highly inquisitive turkeys embark on a waddling sprint to meet us in their two-acre haven of woods and long grass. Their feathers possess a truly bronze-like sheen, displaying a deep brown hue with an almost iridescent, rainbow-like finish. The adolescent males sport distinctive snoods and wattles – fleshy, puce-coloured appendages above and below their beaks – and proudly display their tail feathers. However, gender is not the sole determinant of social standing; a literal pecking order dictates dominance, with more assertive individuals nipping feathers from their subordinates. One particularly ambitious specimen attempts to nibble at my wellington boots, then my leg. I resolve to confront it again in late December… In the meantime, we depart with a whole, frozen turkey, a centerpiece for our festive meal planning.
In the immediate run-up to Christmas, the Pates sell fresh turkeys directly to the public from their farm and various collection points along the East Coast. One of these collection points also cultivates and sells vegetables, prompting our next destination. We cross the Tay Road Bridge into Fife, and finally, an opportunity arises to truly unleash the M3’s capabilities.
In its most aggressive engine mode, the CS remains predominantly bridled below 3000rpm. However, beyond this threshold, acceleration becomes so forceful and relentless that it feels almost exponential. With the exhaust flaps open, the rising revs are accompanied by an ever-louder bass note and an intensifying inductive aggression – certainly dramatic, though not quite spine-tingling. The sweeping A92 provides the ideal canvas, allowing the M3 to devour the tarmac with exceptional pace and balance, its chassis seemingly melding with the road surface.
It is less at ease on the more intricate minor roads that follow, both in terms of cornering inertia and ride suppleness. Nevertheless, the experience remains exhilarating, with the inflatable bolsters on the bucket seats holding us securely in place.
With the CS thoroughly warmed up, we park it outside Pittormie Fruit Farm, a compact, 35-acre site managed by Euan Cameron and his family. The farm shop is closed following a busy summer of fruit sales, but the honesty box at the egg shed continues to receive a steady stream of winter vegetables, also supplied to restaurants and greengrocers. Cameron espouses an appealingly laissez-faire approach to cultivation, employing minimal fertilizers and eschewing fungicides and irrigation. He is critical of the conformity and lack of seasonality prevalent in contemporary supermarket produce. “I don’t force things,” he states. “I like it to get there naturally. I don’t care if something is fugly.”
His ATV transports us to the vibrantly coloured brassica beds, where he unearths a well-stocked Bosworth-variety sprout tree, laden with firm, green nuggets of Christmas joy. Cameron then skillfully extracts an unfamiliar, purple-green mass of leaves from the soil – it’s kalette, a sprout-kale hybrid whose florets cook to a satisfying crisp, offering a nutty alternative for those who dislike traditional sprouts.
We are also in the right place for potatoes. Utilizing an old harvester that Cameron himself has re-engineered, a modest two-acre plot yields an impressive 22 varieties, many of which are niche. His top recommendations for roasting are drier types, including Kerrs Pink and Golden Wonder, but the waxier Wilja is his personal favourite (prepared boiled, oiled, and air-fried). Along with a few carrots, we load a generous bag of produce through the BMW’s rear hatch.
With tomatoes and apples for snacking en route, we continue south across Fife’s characteristic rolling farmland, navigating gorse-lined B-roads. The perpetually faithful steering is at its best in the heavier, more intuitive Sport mode; the lightness of Comfort mode feels incongruous with the car’s size and weight. We are maintaining a reasonable pace, and the middle of the three gearbox settings, in both automatic and manual modes, proves ideal. In automatic, it allows sufficient revs without unnecessarily lingering in the upper reaches, while in manual, it offers sufficient responsiveness without the jarring full-body convulsions experienced with upshifts in the most aggressive mode. The optional £8800 carbon-ceramic brakes are both easily modulated and remarkably potent.
The main coastal road momentarily halts our progress, and we pull up at a converted stone stable block, now home to Futtle Brewery. The name derives from an onomatopoeic Scots word describing pebbles being thrashed by the surf. Much of the expansive, open space is occupied by stainless steel fermenters, brewing a range of high-quality, unfiltered organic lagers, wheat beers, spelt beers, and pale ales. In a corner, Ethan Russell Hogg presides over the bar, curating the vinyl collection. “Our beers are fresh and different, and they take a long time to brew – six to eight weeks, sometimes more – which results in a higher-quality beer,” he explains. Unusually, they utilize raw, whole-leaf hops rather than pellets or oil, along with a blend of malted and unmalted grains and locally foraged plants and seaweed for flavour. Intriguingly, they also possess a ‘coolship’ – an open-topped copper vessel used for brewing Belgian lambic-style ‘wild beers’ that ferment by absorbing airborne yeasts before ageing in old cider casks. The first two batches are slated for bottling by Christmas. For now, we select a bottle of cloudy but light Table Beer, Futtle’s original ale, to accompany our feast.
Our journey culminates with a final mile to the idyllic fishing harbour of St Monans. Nestled against the harbour wall is a pastel blue, two-storey building: East Pier Smokehouse. Exposed to the elements on one side, it is an acclaimed yet remarkably accessible seafood restaurant. In the dining room and on the panoramic roof deck, they serve mackerel, langoustines, and lobster – all landed just yards away – alongside Cullen skink, crab, sea bass, octopus, and more. Takeaway options are available, provided the kitchen can manage. Chef and co-owner James Robb modestly refers to the restaurant as “a small, simple affair,” but its most distinctive feature is anything but simple: a traditional smoker, no larger than a cupboard, which opens directly onto the street.
In continuous use since the 1940s, its walls are now encrusted with tar. At the base, a pair of angled channels allow Robb to burn oak and beech sawdust for 36 to 48 hours – weather permitting – to cold-smoke West Coast salmon. Compared to modern smoking machines, this is an incredibly capricious, old-school method that occasionally necessitates midnight check-ups. However, Robb has mastered the process, producing both traditional and a striking burgundy-hued, beetroot-cured salmon for restaurant service and direct public sale. I am treated to a plate featuring this salmon, served with bread, butter, lemon, and capers. The result is sweet, smoky, firm, and quite simply, the finest I have ever tasted. It is a fitting and exquisite conclusion to our ten-element Christmas dinner experience, a true taste of Scotland, delivered with the precision of Munich.
This immersive journey underscores the extraordinary quality and diversity of artisanal food producers in Scotland. From the robust heartiness of haggis to the delicate sweetness of smoked salmon, each element of our Christmas feast tells a story of tradition, passion, and dedication. If your own festive preparations are underway and you’re seeking inspiration for sourcing premium Christmas ingredients or exploring luxury food gifts Scotland has to offer, consider embarking on a similar exploration.
Ready to elevate your own festive table? Discover the unparalleled quality of Scottish produce and begin crafting your unforgettable Christmas feast today.
