A Culinary Expedition: Procuring Scotland’s Festive Bounty Aboard the BMW M3 CS Touring
For a seasoned automotive journalist with a decade immersed in the industry, the prospect of a festive road trip often conjures images of curated luxury and effortless convenience. However, this year presented a distinct departure from the predictable indulgence. As my colleagues at established publications convened for opulent yuletide lunches, a different challenge awaited: a mission to meticulously source every constituent of a traditional, multi-course Christmas feast, complete with libations, directly from its artisanal producers across the rugged landscapes of Scotland. The clock was ticking, with a mere two days to complete this epicurean quest, and the choice of conveyance rested squarely on my shoulders.
The inherent demands of this undertaking immediately ruled out the impracticality of more exotic, perhaps aesthetically pleasing, but functionally limited machinery. Transporting a festive centrepiece, such as a substantial turkey, in the confines of a diminutive roadster simply wouldn’t suffice. Beyond mere cargo capacity, the chosen vehicle needed to possess a commendable turn of pace to navigate the often-winding Scottish routes, coupled with the dynamic composure to confidently tackle unpredictable weather conditions. The meteorological outlook, as predicted by the Met Office, foreshadowed a symphony of wind and rain, a fittingly dramatic backdrop for the season.
Enter the BMW M3 CS Touring. This estate variant presented an almost bespoke solution to our needs. Its generous 1510 litres of cargo space with the rear seats folded down offered ample room for our gathered treasures. Performance was never going to be a question, with a blistering 0-62mph sprint achievable in a mere 3.5 seconds and a top speed capped at 186mph. Crucially, its switchable all-wheel-drive system promised unwavering security across a spectrum of surface conditions. In essence, it was as if the vehicle had been custom-gift-wrapped for this precise assignment.
This generously appointed, leather-clad, five-seat touring car represents a frankly astonishing engineering feat. Conceived with track-day prowess firmly in mind, its specification sheet reads like a veritable wishlist for performance enthusiasts. Boasting an output of 543 horsepower – a 20bhp uplift over its predecessor, the Competition model – it incorporates an array of exotic materials and cutting-edge technology. Lightweight carbonfibre panels, a 3D-printed cylinder head, a featherweight crankshaft, and reinforced suspension and fluid circuits designed to withstand extreme g-forces all contribute to its formidable capabilities.
Our initial foray, a northward trajectory along the M90 from Edinburgh towards the picturesque Loch Leven, showcased the M3 CS Touring’s remarkable duality. With its bespoke titanium silencer engaged, the cabin remained commendably hushed, a sanctuary from the external elements. The suspension, while tuned for performance, offered a surprising degree of compliance, and the steering remained reassuringly precise, even during more leisurely cruising. The only discernible auditory intrusion emanated from the Michelin Pilot Sport 4 S tyres, a testament to their substantial grip, though their road noise was intrinsically linked to the prevailing surface.
It wasn’t long before we veered off the main thoroughfare, venturing into the secluded beauty of Glen Devon and Dunning Glen. Here, the narrow yet impeccably smooth B934 twisted and turned, weaving through densely wooded hillsides painted in a rich palette of emerald greens and deep browns, a landscape that felt almost otherworldly. The M3 CS Touring navigated these sinuous curves with an effortless grace. Employing the gearbox’s most relaxed automatic mode, it delivered beautifully timed, elastic gear changes via its eight-speed ZF torque converter. Despite its considerable width, the car’s precise steering allowed it to be positioned with uncanny accuracy, a skill that proved invaluable when evading the occasional startled red squirrel.
As we crested a particularly steep incline, the substantial premises of Simon Howie Butchers emerged into view on the outskirts of Dunning, adjacent to Mr. Howie’s own idyllic farmhouse. This establishment stands as a testament to entrepreneurial success, having blossomed from a modest village butcher’s shop into a purveyor of national renown. Beyond its two prominent branches in neighbouring towns, Simon Howie supplies an impressive array of major supermarkets and holds the distinction of being the United Kingdom’s largest producer of haggis, dispatching an astonishing 1.3 million units between Christmas and Burns Night alone.
While Mr. Howie was absent, operations manager Robbie Crook graciously welcomed us and guided us through the facility. Our first stop was the aptly named “pudding room,” where the rich, earthy aroma of black pudding immediately awakened our appetites. However, our primary objective was the iconic haggis. This quintessential Scottish delicacy, a hearty blend of minced pork, beef, and lamb offal, married with oatmeal, barley, and a secret concoction of seasonings, forms the bedrock of our festive menu. We learned of their dedication to inclusivity, offering gluten-free and vegetarian variations, with Mr. Crook noting the latter often serves as an accessible “gateway haggis” for the uninitiated. The facility also produces delightful haggis balls, enrobed in batter and breadcrumbs, a popular and sophisticated starter for any Christmas gathering, thus securing our first crucial element.
Next, we transitioned to the bacon room, a space imbued with the tantalizing scents of both sweetness and smoke. Mr. Crook elucidated the meticulous process behind their renowned pigs in blankets. Streaky cuts of pork belly are first hand-rubbed with a proprietary dry cure, then aged for up to ten days. Following this, they undergo a four-to-six-hour smoking process over premium wood chips before being expertly machine-sliced. These flavour-infused strips are then artfully wrapped around succulent pork chipolatas, culminating in our second indispensable component for the Christmas spread.
With these vital provisions secured, we re-entered the M3 CS Touring. The weather had, by this point, escalated, with a stiffening wind and a relentless downpour commencing. We navigated a network of hedgerow-lined B-roads, traversing the now-swollen River Earn, its currents teeming with salmon embarking on their arduous upstream journey. Verdant canopies began to shed their autumnal foliage, and water pooled precariously at the roadside – a stark reminder that this was decidedly not the terrain for a Morgan Super 3.
The BMW’s M xDrive system, a sophisticated rear-biased multi-plate clutch arrangement, performed admirably. It masterfully distributed power to all four wheels, allowing us to confidently carve arcs through the challenging conditions without a hint of trepidation from the steering. The only notable exception to its composure arose when encountering significant standing water, which induced a degree of skittishness. Even with the least aggressive of the three available tyre configurations, the tyres were clearly operating at the very edge of their capabilities.
We bypassed Crieff, opting instead to ascend into the wilder reaches of the Sma’ Glen, a dramatic landscape adorned with crimson ferns and heather. The route then led us onto an exposed upland section towards Amulree. In its most supple setting, the M3’s adaptive suspension maintained an impressive level of comfort, though a noticeable degree of reactivity was experienced over a few unsettled patches on the descent into Dunkeld.
Despite the prevailing sodden conditions, Dunkeld presented itself as an absolute gem. Thomas Telford’s magnificent seven-arch bridge gracefully spans the handsome River Tay, leading us into the heart of this tiny, ancient town. On a narrow lane adjacent to the venerable 700-year-old cathedral, we carefully manoeuvred the BMW into a prime position outside “The Clootie Dumpling” café, our destination for the sweet course of our repast.
This charming establishment is the passion project of Mike and Jacinta Cairney, specializing in the eponymous Scottish spiced cake, prepared to a cherished family recipe passed down from Mike’s mother, affectionately known as Granny Margaret. “Mum used to make clootie dumpling for our birthday teas,” Mike reminisced, “complete with a ten pence piece hidden inside. If there happened to be any leftovers, she’d fry it up the next morning with bacon and eggs, haggis, black pudding, and Lorne sausage.” This nostalgic recollection resonated deeply, as many of the café’s patrons sought that very connection to their childhood. Clootie dumplings, we discovered, are also a cherished centrepiece at weddings, Christmas, and Hogmanay celebrations.
Jacinta eloquently described their intricate preparation process. A dry mixture of flour, fat, breadcrumbs, raisins, sultanas, brown and white sugar, ginger, and an aromatic blend of spices is meticulously beaten by hand with treacle, eggs, and milk. A traditional cotton cloth, or ‘cloot,’ is then submerged in boiling water until scalding hot, before being laid out and lightly dusted with flour, forming the characteristic chewy casing. The dumpling mixture is carefully poured into the prepared cloth, which is then tied securely. The entire concoction is then submerged and boiled for an impressive four hours. Upon receiving a generous, warm slice, accompanied by a dollop of cream, it proved to be an absolute revelation – significantly mellower and considerably lighter than its Christmas pudding counterpart. We departed, utterly delighted, with a substantial half clootie dumpling destined for our feast.
Navigating through full-blown storm conditions, we steered eastward towards Angus, traversing saturated country lanes. The sheer volume of standing water rendered the experience akin to piloting a vessel across a submerged landscape. For the subsequent 36 miles, progress was necessarily slow, with visibility reduced to a mere 200 metres. The twin mono-scroll, 2.1-bar turbochargers of the 3.0-litre straight-six engine were reduced to a barely perceptible sigh.
We were immensely grateful for the warm reception awaiting us at South Powrie Farm, situated just north of Dundee. Here, we were scheduled to discuss the nuances of turkey farming with Thomas and Susannah Pate. Their farm is one of a select few across the United Kingdom entrusted with rearing the esteemed KellyBronze breed, celebrated for its unparalleled flavour profile. The Pates maintain a flock of 600 turkeys, which arrive as day-old chicks small enough to comfortably fit within the confines of the M3. Naturally, we only required a single specimen, which, given their impressive growth to weights of up to 15kg, was a practical consideration. Our initial plan to observe the flock directly was thwarted as the birds, wisely sensing the inclement weather, had sought refuge within their field shelter. We rescheduled our visit for the following morning, anticipating clearer skies.
At precisely 8 a.m., we were greeted by a cacophony of clucks, squawks, and yelps as the remarkably inquisitive turkeys launched into a waddling sprint to meet us in their two-acre expanse of woodland and long grass. Their plumage was truly magnificent, exhibiting a deep brown, almost iridescent sheen. The adolescent male birds, or stags, sported distinctive snoods and wattles – fleshy appendages above and below their beaks – and proudly displayed their elaborate tail feathers. Interestingly, gender proved to be an irrelevant determinant of social standing; this was dictated by a literal pecking order, with the more dominant individuals asserting their authority by plucking feathers from their subordinates. One particularly ambitious specimen even ventured a curious nibble at my wellington boots and, subsequently, my leg. I resolved to have a more personal encounter with this assertive fowl in late December. In the interim, we secured a whole, frozen turkey, a significant addition to our provisions.
In the immediate lead-up to Christmas, the Pates engage in the direct sale of fresh turkeys to the public, operating from their farm and various collection points along the east coast. One of these collection points also served as a hub for locally grown vegetables, prompting our next destination. We crossed the Tay Road Bridge into Fife, and at last, the opportunity arose to truly unleash the M3 CS Touring’s formidable capabilities.
In its most aggressive engine setting, the CS remained remarkably composed below 3000rpm. However, beyond this threshold, the acceleration was so potent and relentless that it felt almost exponential. With the exhaust flaps fully open, the crescendo of rising revs unleashed an increasingly resonant bass note and an almost overwhelming sense of inductive aggression – dramatic, certainly, though perhaps not overtly spine-tingling. The sweeping expanse of the A92 proved to be an ideal canvas for the M3, which devoured the road with impressive pace and unwavering balance, its chassis seamlessly integrating with the tarmac.
On more technically demanding minor roads, the car exhibited slightly less composure, both in terms of cornering inertia and overall suppleness. Nevertheless, the experience remained exhilarating, with the car’s supportive bucket seats, featuring inflatable bolsters, ensuring we remained firmly anchored.
With the CS operating at optimal temperature, we positioned it outside Pittormie Fruit Farm, a compact, 35-acre site managed by Euan Cameron and his family. While the farm shop had closed following a successful summer of fruit sales, their egg honesty box continued to thrive, supported by a consistent supply of seasonal vegetables. These also found their way to local restaurants and greengrocers. Mr. Cameron espoused a refreshingly laissez-faire approach to cultivation, employing minimal fertilisers and eschewing both fungicides and irrigation. He expressed a distinct disapproval of the uniformity and lack of seasonality inherent in contemporary supermarket produce. “I don’t force things,” he explained. “I prefer to let them mature naturally. I don’t concern myself if something isn’t conventionally attractive.”
His ATV transported us to the vibrant brassica beds, where he unearthed for us a magnificent, well-stocked “sprout tree” of the Bosworth variety, adorned with firm, green nuggets of festive cheer. Mr. Cameron then retrieved a peculiar, purplish-green mass of leaves from the soil – kalette, a hybrid of Brussels sprouts and kale, whose florets cook to a delightful crisp, offering a nutty alternative for those who find traditional sprouts less appealing.
Pittormie Fruit Farm also proved to be an excellent source for potatoes. Utilizing an antiquated harvester that Mr. Cameron had personally re-engineered, a modest two-acre plot yielded an impressive 22 varieties, many of which were relatively niche. His preferred choices for roasting were drier varieties such as Kerrs Pink and Golden Wonder, but his personal favourite for boiling, oiling, and air-frying was the waxier Wilja. Along with a selection of carrots, we loaded a substantial bag of produce into the BMW’s rear hatch.
With a supply of tomatoes and apples to provide on-the-go sustenance, we continued south across Fife’s characteristic rolling farmland, navigating gorse-lined B-roads. The perpetually reliable steering system proved to be at its absolute best in its heavier, more intuitive Sport mode; the lightness of the Comfort setting felt incongruous with the vehicle’s considerable mass and dimensions.
Maintaining a spirited pace, we found the middle of the three gearbox settings, in both automatic and manual modes, to be the most suitable. In automatic, it allowed sufficient revs without unnecessarily dwelling in the upper reaches of the powerband. In manual, it offered a welcome degree of responsiveness without the disconcerting full-body convulsions associated with upshifts in the most aggressive setting. The optional, £8,800 carbon-ceramic brakes were both remarkably easy to modulate and utterly ruthless in their stopping power.
The main coastal road eventually brought our journey to a temporary halt. We pulled over at a converted stone stable block, now the home of Futtle Brewery. The brewery’s name derives from an onomatopoeic Scots word describing the sound of pebbles being thrashed by the surf. A significant portion of the spacious, open-plan area is dedicated to gleaming stainless-steel fermenters, where they craft high-quality, unfiltered organic lagers, wheat beers, spelt beers, and pale ales.
In a corner of the establishment, Ethan Russell Hogg expertly tended the bar, curating a selection of LPs. “Our beers are fresh and distinct,” he explained, “and they undergo a lengthy brewing process – six to eight weeks, sometimes longer – which results in a superior quality beer.” Unconventionally, Futtle Brewery utilizes whole-leaf hops in their raw form, eschewing pellets or oil. Their brewing process also incorporates a blend of malted and unmalted grains, along with locally foraged botanicals and seaweed to impart unique flavour profiles. Intriguingly, they also maintain a ‘coolship’ – an open-topped copper vessel designed for brewing Belgian lambic-style ‘wild beers.’ These ferment naturally by absorbing airborne yeasts before undergoing a period of ageing in former cider casks. The inaugural two batches were scheduled for bottling by Christmas. For the immediate purpose of our feast, we selected a bottle of Futtle’s original ale, a cloudy yet refreshingly light Table Beer.
Our culinary expedition culminated with a final, solitary mile to the idyllic fishing harbour of St Monans. Nestled into the harbour wall was a charming, pastel-blue, two-storey building – the East Pier Smokehouse. Exposed to the full force of the waves on one side, this acclaimed yet unpretentious seafood restaurant offered a truly unique experience.
Within the dining room and on the panoramic roof deck, patrons could savour an array of impeccably fresh seafood, including mackerel, langoustines, and lobster, all landed just yards from the restaurant’s doorstep. The menu also featured a classic Cullen skink, crab, sea bass, and octopus, with takeaway options available, contingent on the kitchen’s capacity. Chef and co-owner James Robb modestly described his establishment as “a small, simple affair.” However, this understated description belied its most distinctive feature: a traditional smoker, no larger than a cupboard, which opens directly onto the street.
In continuous operation since the 1940s, the smoker’s internal walls are now beautifully encrusted with tar. At its base, a pair of angled channels facilitate the burning of oak and beech sawdust for a duration of 36 to 48 hours – a process dictated by the prevailing weather – to cold-smoke West Coast salmon. Compared to contemporary smoking machinery, this represents an exceptionally temperamental, old-school approach, occasionally necessitating midnight inspections. Nevertheless, Mr. Robb has achieved mastery of this intricate process, producing both traditionally smoked and a striking burgundy-hued, beetroot-cured salmon, available for both restaurant service and direct public purchase.
I was privileged to be presented with a sample plate, accompanied by crusty bread, butter, lemon, and capers. The salmon was a symphony of sweetness, smokiness, and firm texture – unequivocally the finest I have ever had the pleasure of tasting. It provided a fitting and sublime conclusion to our meticulously curated ten-course Christmas dinner: a testament to Scottish provenance, express-delivered by Bavarian engineering.
This journey, from the highlands to the east coast, underscored the profound connection between exceptional food and the thrill of the drive. Should your own culinary aspirations extend beyond the ordinary this festive season, consider how the right vehicle can transform a simple errand into an unforgettable adventure. Why not explore the possibilities of a performance estate, one that can comfortably accommodate your festive bounty while delivering an unparalleled driving experience?
