Unpacking Scotland’s Festive Bounty: A BMW M3 CS Touring Expedition for the Ultimate Christmas Dinner
As the festive season approaches, the allure of a perfectly orchestrated Christmas dinner beckons. For many, this involves a swift trip to the local supermarket, a curated selection of pre-prepared items, and a dash of festive cheer. However, for a dedicated few, the true spirit of the holidays lies in the pursuit of ingredients direct from the source. This year, I embarked on a culinary quest across Scotland’s breathtaking landscapes, with an unlikely but undeniably capable companion: the BMW M3 CS Touring. My mission? To assemble a three-course Christmas feast and accompanying libations, sourcing each element from its origin point north of the Scottish border. With a tight two-day deadline and the unpredictable Scottish weather as our backdrop, the choice of wheels and the route were paramount.
The prospect of cramming a festive turkey into the confined space of a vintage sports car was, frankly, laughable. What was needed was a vehicle that balanced capacious practicality with exhilarating performance, all while confidently navigating potentially challenging road conditions. The Met Office’s forecasts painted a familiar picture of wind and rain, a true test for any automobile. Enter the BMW M3 CS Touring. With an astonishing 1510 litres of cargo space when the rear seats are folded, a blistering 0-62mph time of just 3.5 seconds, and a top speed of 186mph, this German powerhouse offered not only the essential room for our edible treasures but also the dynamic prowess to conquer the demanding Scottish terrain. Coupled with its switchable all-wheel-drive system, it felt tailor-made for this unique assignment.
This generously appointed, leather-clad, five-seat estate car is, to put it mildly, a marvel of engineering. Designed with track-day performance firmly in its DNA, its specifications read like a wishlist for any driving enthusiast. Boasting an output of 543 horsepower – a notable increase of 20bhp over its predecessor, the Competition model – it incorporates cutting-edge materials like carbonfibre panels and a 3D-printed cylinder head. The inclusion of a lightweight crankshaft and reinforced suspension components, including additional rose joints, ensures it can withstand the immense g-forces encountered on a racetrack. Yet, this track-focused beast proved surprisingly adept at its initial task: a gentle traverse along the M90 from Edinburgh towards Loch Leven. With the touch of a button, the titanium silencer hushed to a refined murmur, the suspension offered a commendably muted level of jostle, and the steering remained steady. The only consistent sound was a subdued hum from the Michelin Pilot Sport 4 S tyres, a testament to their superior grip, though this was understandably more pronounced on certain road surfaces.
Our route soon led us away from the motorway and onto the secluded byways of Glen Devon and Dunning Glen. The B934, damp and narrow yet delightfully smooth, snaked through verdant hillsides painted in a rich tapestry of greens and browns, reminiscent of a Dr. Seuss illustration. The M3 CS Touring flowed effortlessly, its eight-speed ZF torque-converter automatic transmission delivering impeccably timed, elastic shifts in its gentlest Auto mode. Despite its considerable dimensions, the ultra-precise steering allowed for uncanny accuracy, enabling us to place the car with millimetric precision, a skill that proved invaluable when navigating around two startled red squirrels darting across the road.
Cresting a rise, the substantial edifice of Simon Howie Butchers came into view, situated on the outskirts of Dunning, adjacent to Mr. Howie’s own picturesque farmhouse. This is a true Scottish success story. What began as a humble village butcher’s shop has evolved into a multi-branch operation, supplying not only local communities but also numerous major supermarkets. Simon Howie is, in fact, the UK’s largest producer of haggis, a staggering 1.3 million of these iconic parcels being churned out between Christmas and Burns Night alone.
Though Mr. Howie himself was away, operations manager Robbie Crook graciously welcomed us. Our first stop was the “pudding room,” where the rich aroma of black pudding immediately awakened our appetites. However, our primary objective was the haggis itself: a robust blend of minced pork, beef, and lamb offal, combined with oatmeal, barley, and a secret mix of seasonings to create Scotland’s beloved national dish. The facility also produces gluten-free and vegetarian variations. Mr. Crook noted that the vegetarian haggis often serves as a “gateway haggis” for newcomers to the delicacy. The inventive presentation of haggis balls, dipped in batter and breadcrumbs to form bite-sized bon-bons, highlighted their popularity as a Christmas starter, thus laying a formidable foundation for our festive menu.
Next, we ventured into the sweet and smoke-infused bacon room. Here, Mr. Crook explained the meticulous process behind their pigs in blankets. Streaky cuts of pork belly are hand-rubbed with a dry cure, aged for up to ten days, then smoked for four to six hours over wood chips. These succulent strips are then machine-sliced and artfully wrapped around pork chipolatas, promising a mouthwatering side dish.
With two essential components secured, we rejoined the M3. The wind intensified, and the rain began to lash down with increasing ferocity. A winding B-road led us across a swollen River Earn, its waters teeming with salmon making their determined journey upstream. Canopied sections of the road became increasingly littered with falling branches, and water pooled by the verges – certainly not ideal conditions for a Morgan Super 3. The BMW’s M xDrive system, a rear-biased yet fully variable multi-plate clutch affair, handled the challenging conditions with aplomb. It consistently delivered the required power with unwavering confidence, allowing us to trace elegant arcs through the bends without a hint of trepidation. The only moment of hesitation occurred when encountering significant standing water, where the CS exhibited a degree of skittishness. Even with the least track-focused of the three available tyre options, the tyres were clearly being pushed beyond their optimal operating parameters.
We bypassed Crieff and ascended into the wilder expanses of the Sma’ Glen, its slopes adorned with crimson ferns and heather. Continuing upwards, we entered a fast-paced section of exposed uplands en route to Amulree. The M3’s adaptive suspension, set to its supplest mode, maintained a high level of comfort, save for a few noticeable jolts over some uneven sections during the descent into Dunkeld.
Despite the sodden conditions, Dunkeld proved to be a charming destination. Thomas Telford’s elegant seven-arch bridge gracefully spans the handsome River Tay, leading us into the heart of this tiny, ancient town. On a narrow lane leading to the venerable 700-year-old cathedral, we expertly maneuvered the BMW into a parking spot directly outside The Clootie Dumpling café, our destination for the sweet course.
Mike and Jacinta Cairney’s café is renowned for its signature Scottish spiced cake, prepared using the cherished recipe of Mike’s late mother, affectionately known as Granny Margaret. “Mum would bake clootie dumpling for our birthday tea, with a 10 pence piece inside,” Mike reminisced. “If there were any leftovers, she’d fry them up the next morning with bacon and eggs, haggis, black pudding, and Lorne sausage.” This anecdote captures a quintessential Scottish childhood experience, and indeed, many of the café’s patrons visit seeking that same comforting nostalgia. Clootie dumplings are also a staple at weddings and are a traditional treat for Hogmanay.
Jacinta elaborated on the preparation process. A dry mixture of flour, fat, breadcrumbs, raisins, sultanas, brown and white sugar, ginger, and spices is meticulously beaten by hand with treacle, eggs, and milk. A piece of cloth – a ‘cloot’ – is then boiled in water until scalding hot, laid out, and lightly sprinkled with flour to form the dumpling’s characteristic chewy exterior. The dumpling mixture is poured onto the cloth, which is then tied securely. The entire creation is then boiled for a substantial four hours. I was presented with a generous, warm slice, accompanied by a dollop of cream. It was a revelation – subtler and considerably lighter than a traditional Christmas pudding – and we were delighted to depart with a substantial half of a clootie dumpling.
Under full storm conditions, we continued our eastward journey towards Angus, traversing saturated country lanes. The sheer volume of standing water made it feel as though we were navigating from the cockpit of a seaplane. The ensuing 36 miles passed at a necessarily slow pace, with visibility reduced to a mere 200 metres. The twin mono-scroll, 2.1-bar turbos of the 3.0-litre straight-six engine were reduced to a hushed whisper.
We were immensely grateful for the warm welcome at South Powrie Farm, located just north of Dundee. Here, we met Thomas and Susannah Pate, purveyors of the highly esteemed KellyBronze breed of turkey, renowned for its superior flavour. The Pates raise 600 turkeys annually, their journey beginning as day-old chicks that could comfortably fit in the back of the M3. Our needs, however, were more modest – just one magnificent bird, which, considering their potential to reach 15kg, was fortunate. We had planned to observe the flock in their natural habitat, but they had wisely sought shelter from the downpour in their field enclosure. Consequently, we arranged to return the following morning, hoping for clearer skies.
At 8 am the next day, we were greeted by a cacophony of clucks, squawks, and yelps as the remarkably inquisitive turkeys embarked on a waddling sprint to meet us in their two-acre expanse of woodland and long grass. Their plumage truly lived up to the “bronze” moniker, displaying a deep brown hue with an almost iridescent sheen. The adolescent males sported prominent snoods and wattles – fleshy growths above and below their beaks – and proudly fanned their tail feathers. However, gender was not the sole determinant of social standing; this was dictated by a literal pecking order, with dominant individuals nipping feathers from their subordinates. One particularly ambitious specimen decided my wellington boots, and then my leg, were fair game. I resolved to reacquaint myself with him in late December… For now, we departed with a whole, frozen turkey.
In the immediate run-up to Christmas, the Pates sell fresh turkeys directly to the public from their farm and at various collection points along the east coast. One of these points also happens to be a purveyor of locally grown vegetables, prompting our next destination. We crossed the Tay Road Bridge into Fife, and at last, an opportunity presented itself to truly unleash the M3’s capabilities.
In its most aggressive engine setting, the CS remained largely composed below 3000rpm. However, beyond that threshold, the acceleration was so potent and unrelenting that it felt almost exponential. With the exhaust flaps fully open, the rising revs produced an ever-louder bass note and an escalating sense of inductive aggression – dramatic, certainly, though perhaps not quite spine-tingling. The sweeping A92 proved to be a perfect canvas for such performance, the M3 devouring the road with a remarkable blend of pace and poise, its chassis seemingly merging with the tarmac.
On the more intricate minor roads that followed, the car exhibited slightly less composure, both in terms of cornering inertia and ride suppleness. Nevertheless, the experience remained exhilarating, with the supportive bolsters of the bucket seats holding us firmly in place.
With the CS pleasantly warmed up, we parked it outside Pittormie Fruit Farm, a compact 35-acre operation managed by Euan Cameron and his family. While the farm shop had closed after a busy summer of fruit sales, the honesty box in the egg shed was kept consistently replenished with a steady supply of winter vegetables, also supplied to local restaurants and greengrocers. Mr. Cameron espouses an appealingly laissez-faire approach to cultivation, employing minimal fertilisers and eschewing both fungicides and irrigation. He expressed disdain for the uniformity and lack of seasonality prevalent in much of today’s supermarket produce. “I don’t force things,” he stated. “I like it to get there naturally. I don’t care if something is fugly.”
His ATV transported us to the vibrantly coloured brassica beds, where he unearthed a magnificent, well-stocked sprout tree of the Bosworth variety, adorned with firm, green nuggets of festive joy. Mr. Cameron then pulled a strikingly unfamiliar mass of purple-green leaves from the soil – kalette, a hybrid of sprout and kale. Its florets, when cooked, crisp up beautifully, offering a nutty alternative for those less inclined towards traditional sprouts.
We were also in the ideal location for potatoes. Using an ingenious old harvester that Mr. Cameron had re-engineered himself, a modest two-acre plot yields an impressive 22 varieties, many of them niche. His preferred varieties for roasting, such as Kerrs Pink and Golden Wonder, are drier types. However, his personal favourite, the waxier Wilja, prepared by boiling, oiling, and air-frying, was a must-have. Along with a few carrots, we loaded a generous bag of these earth-grown treasures through the BMW’s rear hatch.
With fresh tomatoes and apples to provide en-route sustenance, we continued south across Fife’s characteristic rolling farmland, navigating gorse-lined B-roads. The perpetually faithful steering proved most effective in its heavier, more intuitive Sport mode; the lightness of Comfort mode felt incongruous with the car’s substantial dimensions and weight. We were maintaining a brisk pace, and the middle of the three gearbox settings, in both Auto and Manual modes, proved ideal. In the former, it allowed sufficient revs without unnecessarily lingering in the upper reaches, while in the latter, it offered responsive shifts without the full-body convulsions experienced in the most aggressive setting. The optional £8800 carbon-ceramic brakes were both remarkably easy to modulate and utterly formidable in their stopping power.
The main coastal road eventually brought us to a halt. We pulled up at a converted stone stable block, the home of Futtle Brewery. The name itself, derived from an onomatopoeic Scots word for pebbles being tossed about in the surf, hints at the brewery’s authentic character. A significant portion of the large, open space is occupied by stainless-steel fermenters, where they craft high-quality, unfiltered organic lagers, wheat beers, spelt beers, and pale ales.
In the corner, Ethan Russell Hogg expertly tended the bar, curating a selection of LPs. “Our beers are fresh and different and take a long time to brew – six to eight weeks, sometimes more – which results in a higher-quality beer,” he explained. Unconventionally, they utilise raw, whole-leaf hops rather than pellets or oils, along with a blend of malted and unmalted grains, and locally foraged plants and seaweed for added flavour complexity. Intriguingly, they also house a ‘coolship’ – an open-topped copper vessel used for brewing Belgian lambic-style ‘wild beers’. These ferment by absorbing naturally occurring airborne yeasts before being aged in old cider casks. The initial two batches were scheduled for bottling by Christmas. For our needs, we selected a bottle of cloudy yet light Table Beer, Futtle’s original ale, to accompany our meticulously sourced feast.
Our journey culminated with a final, solitary mile to the idyllic fishing harbour of St Monans. There, nestled against the harbour wall, stood a pastel blue, two-storey building: East Pier Smokehouse. This acclaimed yet unpretentious seafood restaurant, battered by waves on one side, offers a truly exceptional dining experience. Within the dining room and on the panoramic roof deck, patrons can savour mackerel, langoustines, and lobster, all landed mere yards away. The menu also features Cullen skink, crab, sea bass, octopus, and more. Takeaway options are available, provided the kitchen’s capacity allows. Chef and co-owner James Robb modestly describes the establishment as “a small, simple affair.” However, its most distinctive feature is undoubtedly its traditional smoker, no larger than a cupboard, which opens directly onto the street.
In continuous use since the 1940s, its walls are now heavily encrusted with tar. At the base, a pair of angled channels are where Mr. Robb burns oak and beech sawdust for 36 to 48 hours – depending on prevailing weather conditions – to cold-smoke West Coast salmon. Compared to modern smoking machines, this is an exceptionally fickle, old-school approach that occasionally necessitates midnight check-ups. Yet, Mr. Robb has undeniably mastered the process, producing both traditional and a striking burgundy-hued, beetroot-cured salmon for both restaurant service and direct public sale.
I was treated to a plate featuring a slice of this exquisite salmon, served with bread, butter, lemon, and capers. The result was a symphony of sweet, smoky, and firm flavours – quite simply, the finest I have ever encountered. It was a fitting conclusion to our ten-component Christmas dinner: a true celebration of Scottish produce, expertly assembled and express-delivered to our table courtesy of Munich’s finest engineering.
As the embers of this culinary adventure cool, the question remains: what’s next on your own festive table? Perhaps it’s time to explore the provenance of your own holiday fare, to connect with the dedicated producers who pour their passion into every ingredient. Whether you seek the perfect turkey, the finest artisanal cheeses, or a truly unique craft beer to complement your meal, the spirit of discovery awaits. Consider this your invitation to embark on your own flavour expedition, uncovering the rich tapestry of taste that lies just beyond your doorstep.
