The Ultimate Scottish Festive Feast: A High-Performance Pursuit in the BMW M3 CS Touring
For seasoned automotive enthusiasts and discerning epicureans alike, the holiday season presents a unique opportunity to blend passion with palate. As the year draws to a close, the allure of a perfectly orchestrated Christmas dinner, replete with the finest ingredients sourced with intention, beckons. This year, our quest for the quintessential festive fare led us not to a conventional marketplace, but on an exhilarating expedition across the Scottish landscape, navigating its rugged beauty and culinary treasures aboard a machine engineered for uncompromising performance: the BMW M3 CS Touring.
This isn’t just about acquiring sustenance; it’s about a pilgrimage. In the spirit of true craftsmanship, we embarked on a two-day odyssey, tasked with procuring every element of a three-course Yuletide banquet, complemented by celebratory libations, directly from its originators across Scotland. The challenge was twofold: curating a menu that celebrated the nation’s finest produce and selecting the ideal chariot to facilitate this ambitious undertaking.
The requirements for our transport were clear and demanding. Practicality was paramount; the days of awkwardly balancing artisanal cheeses in a vintage sports car’s limited storage were long past. Our chosen vehicle needed ample space to accommodate a substantial bounty of culinary delights, from the centerpiece of the meal to its supporting cast. Equally crucial was performance. Scotland’s autumnal and early winter weather can be notoriously fickle, often presenting a dramatic tableau of driving conditions. We anticipated slick roads, gusting winds, and sweeping vistas that demanded not only composure but also an engaging driving experience.
Enter the BMW M3 CS Touring. This isn’t merely a car; it’s a statement of intent. With a cavernous 1510 litres of cargo capacity when the rear seats are folded, it effortlessly swallowed our ambitions for a grand feast. Its acceleration is nothing short of breathtaking – a mere 3.5 seconds to reach 62 mph, with a top speed nudging 186 mph – figures that translate into rapid transit between culinary appointments. Furthermore, its switchable all-wheel-drive system offers confidence-inspiring grip, a vital asset when traversing less-than-ideal road surfaces. It felt, quite frankly, as though it had been custom-built for this specific festive food sourcing mission.
This generously appointed, leather-clad, five-seat estate car is a marvel of engineering, a fusion of track-bred prowess and everyday usability. Its specification sheet reads like a veritable wish list for any performance car aficionado. A potent 543 bhp output, a notable increase over its predecessor, is delivered through a suite of cutting-edge technologies. Carbon fibre panels enhance rigidity and reduce weight, while a 3D-printed cylinder head and a lightweight crankshaft contribute to the engine’s responsiveness. The suspension, bolstered with additional rose joints, and fluid circuits engineered to withstand extreme g-forces, underscore its track-ready pedigree. Yet, miraculously, these track-focused attributes translate into a surprisingly refined experience on public roads.
Our initial foray, a trudge northwards on the M90 from Edinburgh towards the picturesque Loch Leven, was met with remarkable civility. At the touch of a button, the special titanium silencer hushed the car’s formidable acoustics, allowing for a tranquil cabin. The suspension, while firm, exhibited a controlled suppleness, and the steering remained steady and predictable. The only notable intrusion was the occasional rumble from the Michelin Pilot Sport 4 S tyres, a characteristic that, thankfully, proved dependent on road surface rather than a constant annoyance.
Our journey soon veered off the main arteries and into the secluded enclaves of Glen Devon and Dunning Glen. Here, the B934, a narrow, damp, yet delightfully smooth ribbon of tarmac, twisted and turned with delightful abandon between Seussian hillsides, painted in a rich palette of greens and browns. The M3 CS Touring responded with remarkable agility. In the gearbox’s gentlest Auto mode, its shifts were imperceptibly smooth, courtesy of the eight-speed ZF torque converter. Despite its considerable dimensions – over two metres between its mirrors – the steering’s astonishing precision allowed us to place the car with millimetric accuracy, a feat that undoubtedly contributed to the fortunate avoidance of at least two startled red squirrels darting across our path.
As we crested a hill, the substantial premises of Simon Howie Butchers appeared on the outskirts of Dunning, adjacent to Mr. Howie’s own idyllic farmhouse. This is a true Scottish success story. What began as a modest village butcher’s shop has blossomed into a significant operation, now boasting branches in neighbouring towns and supplying major supermarkets nationwide. Crucially, Simon Howie is the UK’s leading producer of haggis, an astonishing 1.3 million units dispatched between Christmas and Burns Night alone – a testament to the enduring appeal of this iconic dish.
While Mr. Howie was away, operations manager Robbie Crook graciously welcomed us. Our first destination was the “pudding room,” where the rich aroma of black pudding immediately piqued our appetites. However, our primary objective was haggis. The meticulous process involves mincing pork, beef, and lamb offal, combining it with oatmeal, barley, and a secret blend of seasonings to create Scotland’s beloved national dish. We were also impressed to learn of their gluten-free and vegetarian iterations, with Mr. Crook noting that the latter often serves as an “entry-level haggis” for the uninitiated. The creation of haggis balls, dipped in batter and rolled in breadcrumbs, offered a tantalizing glimpse of a potential Christmas starter – a promising cornerstone for our festive menu.
Next, we ventured into the sweet and smoke-scented bacon room. Here, Mr. Crook explained the artisanal approach to crafting pigs in blankets. Streaky pork belly cuts are hand-rubbed with a dry cure, aged for up to ten days, then smoked for four to six hours over wood chips. The resulting bacon is then sliced and artfully wrapped around pork chipolatas, forming what is undoubtedly one of the most universally adored side dishes of any festive feast. With two essential components secured, we re-entered the M3 as the wind intensified and the rain began its relentless assault.
A hedgerow-lined B-road led us across a swollen River Earn, its currents teeming with salmon on their arduous journey upstream to spawn. The canopy of trees began to shed their leaves, and water collected at the verges – a stark reminder that this was certainly not the domain of a Morgan Super 3. The BMW’s rear-biased, yet fully variable, multi-plate clutch-based M xDrive system, however, proved remarkably capable. It faithfully deployed all available power, allowing us to confidently trace arcs through the challenging conditions without a hint of instability. The only exception arose when encountering standing water, where the CS momentarily exhibited a degree of skittishness. Even on the least track-focused of the available tyre options, their limits were being tested.
We bypassed Crieff, opting instead to ascend into the wild expanse of the Sma’ Glen, adorned with crimson ferns and heather. The route then climbed into exposed uplands, a fast-paced section leading towards Amulree. Set to its supplest suspension mode, the M3’s adaptive dampers maintained a comfortable ride, save for some noticeable reactivity over a few bumpy sections on the descent into Dunkeld.
Despite the sodden conditions, Dunkeld proved to be a captivating destination. Thomas Telford’s magnificent seven-arch bridge gracefully spans the handsome River Tay, guiding us into the heart of this tiny, ancient town. On a narrow lane, leading to the 700-year-old cathedral, we expertly shoehorned the BMW in front of The Clootie Dumpling café, our target for the sweet course.
Mike and Jacinta Cairney’s establishment specialises in the eponymous Scottish spiced cake, a recipe perfected by Mike’s mother, affectionately known as Granny Margaret. “Mum would make clootie dumpling for our birthday tea, with a 10 pence piece inside,” Mike recounts. “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 anecdote resonates deeply, as many of the café’s patrons seek that same comforting connection to their childhood. Clootie dumplings are a cherished part of celebrations, including weddings, Christmas, and Hogmanay.
Jacinta meticulously detailed her process. A dry mixture of flour, fat, breadcrumbs, raisins, sultanas, brown and white sugar, ginger, and spices is hand-beaten with treacle, eggs, and milk. A cloth – a ‘cloot’ – is boiled until scalding, then laid out and lightly floured to form the characteristic chewy skin. The dumpling mixture is then poured in, the cloot tied securely, and the entire concoction boiled for four hours. We were presented with a generous, warm slice, accompanied by cream. It was a revelation – far mellower and lighter than a traditional Christmas pudding – and we departed with an enormous half clootie dumpling, a delightful addition to our Yuletide spread.
Battling full storm conditions, we navigated eastward towards Angus on saturated country roads. The sheer volume of standing water rendered our progress akin to peering from the cockpit of an ekranoplan. The subsequent 36 miles were necessarily slow, reduced to a 200-metre visibility. The twin mono-scroll, 2.1-bar turbos of the 3.0-litre straight-six engine were reduced to a mere breathy sigh.
A welcome respite arrived at South Powrie Farm, just north of Dundee, where we had arranged to meet Thomas and Susannah Pate to discuss our final centrepiece: the turkey. Their farm is one of a select few across the UK entrusted with rearing the KellyBronze breed, renowned for its exceptional flavour. The Pates manage 600 turkeys, arriving as day-old chicks that could comfortably fit within the confines of the M3. Our needs, however, were singular – a single bird, destined to grow to a considerable 15kg. Our initial plan to meet the flock was thwarted; they were wisely sheltering from the deluge in their field shelter. A return visit was scheduled for 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 performed a waddling sprint to meet us in their two-acre field of woods and long grass. Their plumage was a spectacle of iridescent bronze, with deep brown, almost rainbow-sheened feathers. The adolescent males sported distinctive snoods and wattles – puce globs of skin above and below their beaks – and proudly fanned their tail feathers. Gender, however, proved an unreliable predictor of social standing; dominance was determined by a literal pecking order, with the most assertive birds nipping at their inferiors. One particularly ambitious character took a curious nibble at my wellington boots, then my leg. I resolved to meet this bold individual again in late December. For now, we departed with a whole, frozen turkey, ready to grace our Christmas table.
In the immediate run-up to Christmas, the Pates sell fresh turkeys directly to the public from their farm and at collection points along the east coast. One of these points also cultivates and sells vegetables, so our next destination was set. Crossing the Tay Road Bridge into Fife, we finally encountered an opportunity to truly unleash the M3’s capabilities.
In its most aggressive engine setting, the CS typically restrains its power below 3000 rpm. Beyond that threshold, however, acceleration becomes so forceful and relentless that it feels almost exponential. With the exhaust flaps open, rising revs are accompanied by an ever-louder bass note and a mounting inductive aggression – certainly dramatic, though not quite spine-tingling. The sweeping A92 proved to be the M3’s natural element, a road it consumed with pace and an unwavering sense of balance, seamlessly melding with the asphalt.
On more technical minor roads that followed, the car exhibited slightly less ease, both in terms of cornering inertia and suppleness. Nevertheless, the experience remained riotous, with the inflatable bolsters of the bucket seats holding us firmly in our positions.
With the CS thoroughly warmed, we purred to a halt outside Pittormie Fruit Farm, a compact, 35-acre site managed by Euan Cameron and his family. While the shop had closed after a busy summer of fruit sales, the honesty box at the egg shed remained perpetually jingling, sustained by a steady supply of winter vegetables. These are also supplied to local restaurants and greengrocers. Mr. Cameron espouses an appealingly laissez-faire approach to cultivation, employing minimal fertilisers and foregoing fungicides and irrigation. He expresses disdain for the conformity and lack of seasonality prevalent in today’s supermarket produce. “I don’t force things,” he asserts. “I like it to get there naturally. I don’t care if something is fugly.”
His ATV, affectionately named “shoogle,” conveyed us to the multicoloured brassica beds. There, he unearthed a well-stocked “sprout tree” of the Bosworth variety, adorned with firm, green nuggets of Christmas joy. Mr. Cameron then produced an unfamiliar, purple-green mass of leaves from the soil – kalette, a sprout-kale hybrid whose florets cook to a delightful crisp, offering a nutty alternative for those who find traditional sprouts less appealing.
We were also in the perfect location for potatoes. Using an old harvester that Mr. Cameron had ingeniously re-engineered himself, a modest two-acre plot yielded 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 loaded a generous bag through the BMW’s rear hatch.
With tomatoes and apples to provide sustenance en route, we continued south across Fife’s characteristic rolling farmland, navigating gorse-lined B-roads. The perpetually faithful steering proved most effective in its heavier, intuitive Sport mode; the lightness of Comfort mode felt incongruous with the car’s size and weight. We were carrying a respectable pace, and the middle of the three gearbox settings, in both Auto and Manual modes, proved ideal. In Auto, it maintained sufficient revs without needlessly lingering in the upper reaches, while in Manual, it offered responsiveness without the jarring full-body convulsions associated with upshifts in the most aggressive mode. The optional, £8800 carbon-ceramic brakes were both remarkably easy to modulate and utterly ruthless in their stopping power.
The main coast road brought our journey to a temporary halt. We pulled up at a converted stone stable block, now home to Futtle Brewery. The brewery’s name is derived from an onomatopoeic Scots word for pebbles being thrashed in the surf. Much of the large, open space is occupied by gleaming stainless-steel fermenters, brewing a range of high-quality, unfiltered organic lagers, wheat beers, spelt beers, and pale ales. In the corner, Ethan Russell Hogg presides over the bar, curating the vinyl soundtrack. “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 employ raw, whole-leaf hops rather than pellets or oil, a blend of malted and unmalted grains, and locally foraged plants and seaweed for flavour enhancement. Intriguingly, a “coolship” – an open-topped copper vessel – is used for brewing Belgian lambic-style ‘wild beers’ that ferment by absorbing airborne yeasts before ageing in old cider casks. The first two batches were slated for bottling by Christmas. For our immediate needs, we selected some cloudy but light Table Beer, Futtle’s original ale, to accompany our feast.
Our gastronomic odyssey concluded with a solitary mile to the idyllic fishing harbour of St Monans. Nestled into the harbour wall, a pastel blue, two-storey building houses East Pier Smokehouse, an acclaimed yet refreshingly accessible seafood restaurant. Lashed by waves on one side, its dining room and panoramic roof deck offer an unparalleled view of the sea. Here, they serve mackerel, langoustines, and lobster, all landed mere yards away, alongside C Cullen skink, crab, sea bass, octopus, and more. Takeaway options are available, provided the kitchen can manage. Chef and co-owner James Robb is characteristically modest when referring to the restaurant as “a small, simple affair.” Yet, it is precisely this simplicity that defines its most unique feature: a traditional smoker, no larger than a cupboard, that opens directly onto the street.
In continuous use since the 1940s, its walls are now deeply encrusted with tar. A pair of angled channels at the bottom are where Mr. Robb burns oak and beech sawdust for 36 to 48 hours – depending on the weather – to cold-smoke West Coast salmon. Compared to modern smoking machines, it is an exceptionally temperamental, old-school approach, often requiring midnight check-ups. However, Mr. Robb has undeniably mastered the process, producing both traditional and a striking burgundy-hued, beetroot-cured salmon for restaurant service and direct public sale.
I was treated to a plate featuring the salmon, served with bread, butter, lemon, and capers. The flavour was a symphony of sweetness, smoke, and firm texture – quite simply, the finest I have ever encountered. It was the perfect culmination of our ten-element Christmas dinner: a culinary masterpiece, crafted in Scotland, express delivered by Munich’s finest engineering.
As the festive season unfolds, the desire for authentic, high-quality ingredients, coupled with the thrill of discovery, becomes ever more pronounced. Whether you’re a seasoned gourmand or simply seeking to elevate your holiday celebrations, consider embarking on your own journey of culinary exploration. Perhaps a similarly spirited drive, a visit to your local artisanal producers, or simply a renewed appreciation for the provenance of your festive fare could make this Christmas truly exceptional.
If you’re inspired to experience the thrill of performance driving while exploring the UK’s incredible food scene, start planning your next automotive adventure today.
