Navigating Scotland’s Festive Larder: A BMW M3 CS Touring Christmas Expedition
As the holiday season descends, casting a magical glow across the United Kingdom, many anticipate the joyous tradition of a quintessential Christmas dinner. While colleagues might convene in cosy, candlelit establishments, a unique challenge awaits in Scotland. This year, the mission was clear: to personally procure every element of a sumptuous three-course Christmas feast, complete with accompanying libations, directly from the artisans and producers scattered across the nation’s breathtaking landscapes. The clock was ticking, a mere two days allotted for this epicurean pilgrimage. The crucial variables – the precise locations and, of course, the conveyance – rested squarely on our shoulders.
The decision of what to drive was paramount. Eschewing the impracticality of attempting to strap a festive fowl onto the exterior of a whimsical roadster, the need for ample space became immediately apparent. Furthermore, the journey demanded not only brisk progress but also the agility and composure to tackle Scotland’s notoriously capricious winter weather. Met Office advisories spoke of potent gusts and persistent rainfall, mirroring the autumnal palette painting the surrounding scenery. Enter the BMW M3 CS Touring. This exceptional estate car offered a compelling blend of voluminous cargo capacity – a remarkable 1510 litres with the rear seats folded – blistering acceleration (capable of reaching 62 mph in a mere 3.5 seconds and a top speed of 186 mph), and an assured grip thanks to its switchable all-wheel-drive system. It was, in essence, tailor-made for this particular quest.
This generously appointed, leather-clad, five-seater station wagon is a truly extraordinary machine. Engineered with track performance as a primary objective, its specifications read like a high-performance manifesto. Boasting a formidable 543 bhp (a 20 bhp increase over its predecessor, the Competition model), extensive use of carbon fibre panels, a 3D-printed cylinder head, a lightweight crankshaft, and reinforced suspension components, it’s built to withstand the rigours of extreme g-forces. Yet, its initial foray along the M90, departing Edinburgh for the serene environs of Loch Leven, proved remarkably civilised. The specialized titanium silencer could be discreetly muted with a simple button press, while the suspension offered a composed, rather than jarring, ride, complemented by steady, reassuring steering. The only notable intrusion was the occasional resonant roar from the Michelin Pilot Sport 4 S tyres (measuring 19 inches at the front and 20 inches at the rear), a characteristic that proved highly dependent on the road surface.
Before long, we veered off the main artery, venturing into the secluded valleys of Glen Devon and Dunning Glen. Here, the damp yet delightfully smooth B934 unfurled, its tight bends weaving through wooded hillsides that evoked the whimsical landscapes of Dr. Seuss, painted in hues ranging from vibrant emerald to rich chocolate. The M3 effortlessly navigated these sinuous routes, operating in the gearbox’s most relaxed Auto mode. The eight-speed ZF torque converter delivered beautifully timed, elastic shifts, and despite the car’s considerable width, its ultra-precise steering allowed for remarkably accurate placement, down to the last centimetre – a feat that proved beneficial in avoiding at least two startled red squirrels.
Ascending a gentle rise, the substantial premises of Simon Howie Butchers came into view, strategically located on the outskirts of Dunning, adjacent to Mr. Howie’s own idyllic farmhouse. This establishment represents a true Scottish success story. What began as a modest village butcher shop has blossomed into a thriving enterprise, now encompassing two branches in nearby towns. Moreover, it supplies a significant portion of the UK’s major supermarket chains and holds the distinction of being the nation’s largest producer of haggis, churning out an astonishing 1.3 million units annually between Christmas and Burns Night.
Although the proprietor was away, Operations Manager Robbie Crook graciously guided us through the facility. Our first stop was the pudding room, a place where the rich, earthy aroma of black pudding immediately stirred our appetites. However, our primary objective was haggis. This iconic Scottish dish, a hearty blend of minced pork, beef, and lamb offal, oatmeal, barley, and a carefully guarded mix of seasonings, forms the cornerstone of our festive menu. Simon Howie also offers gluten-free and vegetarian variations, with Mr. Crook noting that the latter often serves as an accessible “gateway haggis” for newcomers to the delicacy. Haggis balls, coated in batter and breadcrumbs, were also being prepared, destined to become delightful bite-sized bonbons – a popular Christmas starter, thus providing a robust foundation for our celebratory meal.
Next, we moved to the bacon room, permeated with the mingled scents of sweetness and smoke. Here, Mr. Crook explained the meticulous process of crafting pigs in blankets. Streaky cuts of pork belly are hand-rubbed with a dry cure, aged for up to ten days, and then smoked for four to six hours over wood chips. The succulent meat is then machine-sliced and artfully wrapped around pork chipolatas, creating our first tantalizing side dish.
With two essential components secured, we returned to the M3. The wind had intensified, and the heavens opened with a drumming downpour. A hedgerow-hugging B-road led us across a swollen River Earn, its waters teeming with salmon making their determined upstream journey to spawn. Canopy-like stretches of trees began to shed branches under the onslaught, and water pooled precariously at the verges – a stark reminder that this was decidedly not Morgan Super 3 territory. The BMW’s rear-biased, yet fully variable, multi-plate clutch-based M xDrive system proved remarkably adept, faithfully deploying all available power and confidently carving arcs without a hint of instability. The only challenge arose from standing water, which caused the CS to become momentarily skittish. Despite being fitted with the least track-focused of the available tyre options, they were clearly being pushed to their limits in these conditions.
We bypassed Crieff, ascending into the rugged expanse of the Sma’ Glen, adorned with vibrant crimson ferns and heather, then continued upwards onto an exposed high-altitude section towards Amulree. In its most compliant setting, the M3’s adaptive suspension ensured a comfortable ride, save for a few noticeable jolts over some uneven sections during the descent into Dunkeld.
Though sodden, Dunkeld exuded an undeniable charm. Thomas Telford’s elegant seven-arch bridge spanned the majestic River Tay, guiding us into the small, historic town. On a narrow lane leading to the ancient, 700-year-old cathedral, we carefully manoeuvred the BMW to a prime spot in front of The Clootie Dumpling café, our next destination in pursuit of a sweet conclusion.
Mike and Jacinta Cairney’s establishment is renowned for its namesake Scottish spiced cake, prepared using the cherished recipe of Mike’s late mother, affectionately known as Granny Margaret. “Mum used to make clootie dumpling for our birthday teas, with a 10 pence piece hidden 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 culinary tradition was a common childhood experience, and for many patrons of the café, it evokes a powerful sense of nostalgia. Clootie dumplings are also a customary feature at weddings, Christmas, and Hogmanay celebrations.
Jacinta meticulously detailed their preparation method. A dry mixture 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 traditional cloth, or ‘cloot,’ is then brought to a scalding point in boiling water, laid out, and dusted with flour to form the characteristic chewy exterior. The dumpling mixture is poured into the cloth, which is then tied securely before the entire concoction is boiled for four hours. Presented with a generous, warm slice, accompanied by cream, it proved to be a revelation – a mellower and considerably lighter alternative to traditional Christmas pudding. We departed with a substantial half clootie dumpling, a welcome addition to our festive haul.
Continuing eastward towards Angus, we navigated saturated country roads under full storm conditions. The sheer volume of standing water created an almost amphibious driving experience, as if we were peering from the cockpit of a ground-effect vehicle. The subsequent 36 miles were necessarily slow, with visibility reduced to approximately 200 metres. The 3.0-litre straight-six engine’s twin mono-scroll, 2.1-bar turbochargers were reduced to a gentle whisper.
We were met with a warm reception at South Powrie Farm, situated just north of Dundee, where Thomas and Susannah Pate raise their prized KellyBronze turkeys. This breed is highly regarded for its exceptional flavour. The Pates manage a flock of 600 turkeys, which arrive as day-old chicks that could all comfortably fit within the confines of the M3. We, however, only required one, a sensible consideration given that these birds can mature to a weight of 15 kg. Our initial plan to observe the flock in their field was thwarted by their sensible decision to seek shelter from the downpour. We rescheduled for the following morning, hoping for clearer skies.
At 8 am, we were greeted by a cacophony of clucks, squawks, and yelps as the remarkably inquisitive turkeys engaged in a waddling sprint to meet us in their two-acre enclosure of woodland and long grass. Their plumage was indeed a magnificent bronze, with a deep brown hue and an almost iridescent sheen. The adolescent males sported snoods and wattles – fleshy, puce appendages above and below their beaks – and proudly displayed their tail feathers. However, gender played no part in their social hierarchy, which was determined by a literal pecking order, with dominant individuals asserting their status by nipping feathers from their subordinates. One particularly ambitious bird even took a tentative nibble at my wellington boots, then my leg. I vowed to revisit this bold character in late December. For the time being, we departed with a whole frozen turkey.
In the days immediately preceding Christmas, the Pates offer fresh turkeys directly to the public from their farm and at various collection points along the east coast. One of these locations also cultivates and sells vegetables, prompting our next journey. 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 potent engine mode, the CS remained commendably restrained below 3000 rpm. However, beyond this threshold, acceleration became so forceful and relentless that it felt almost exponential. With the exhaust flaps open, the escalating revs unleashed an increasingly resonant bass note and a mounting, inductive aggression – certainly dramatic, if not entirely spine-tingling. The sweeping A92 provided an ideal canvas, with the M3 devouring the miles with an impressive combination of pace and balance, its form seemingly fusing with the tarmac.
On the more technically demanding 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 bolstered bucket seats expertly cradling us in place.
With the CS thoroughly warmed, we positioned it outside Pittormie Fruit Farm, a compact, 35-acre site managed by Euan Cameron and his family. Although the shop was closed after a busy summer of fruit sales, the honesty box at the egg shed continued to receive a steady stream of winter vegetables. These produce are also supplied to local restaurants and greengrocers. Mr. Cameron espouses an appealingly relaxed approach to cultivation, employing minimal fertilisers and eschewing fungicides and irrigation. He expressed a mild disdain for the uniformity and lack of seasonality prevalent in contemporary supermarket produce. “I don’t force things,” he explained. “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 specimen of a Bosworth-variety Brussels sprout tree, adorned with firm, green nuggets of festive delight. Mr. Cameron then pulled a mass of unfamiliar, purple-green leaves from the soil – kalette, a hybrid of sprouts and kale, whose florets cook to a crisp, offering a nutty alternative for those who find traditional sprouts less appealing.
We were also in the perfect location for potatoes. Utilizing a re-engineered old harvester, a modest two-acre plot yielded 22 distinct varieties, many of them niche. His preferred varieties for roasting were drier types, including Kerrs Pink and Golden Wonder, though he favoured the waxier Wilja for boiling, oiling, and air-frying. Along with a few carrots, we loaded a generous bag through the BMW’s rear hatch.
With tomatoes and apples for snacking en route, we continued south across Fife’s characteristic rolling farmland, traversing gorse-lined B-roads. The unfailingly precise steering felt most at home in its heavier, intuitive Sport mode; the lightness of Comfort mode seemed incongruous with the car’s substantial dimensions and weight. We maintained a steady pace, and the middle of the three gearbox settings, in both Auto and Manual modes, proved optimal. In Auto, it allowed for sufficient revs without unnecessary lingering in the upper ranges, while in Manual, it offered sufficient responsiveness without the jarring full-body convulsions experienced when upshifting in the most aggressive setting. The optional £8800 carbon-ceramic brakes were both remarkably controllable and supremely effective.
The main coastal road brought our progress to a temporary halt. We pulled up beside a converted stone stable block, now home to Futtle Brewery, its name derived from an onomatopoeic Scots word for pebbles being thrashed by the surf. The expansive, open interior houses gleaming stainless-steel fermenters, where high-quality, unfiltered organic lagers, wheat beers, spelt beers, and pale ales are brewed. In a corner, Ethan Russell Hogg presided over the bar, tending to the vinyl spinning. “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. Unusually, they employ raw, whole-leaf hops rather than pellets or oil, alongside 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,’ which ferment by absorbing ambient yeasts before ageing in old cider casks. The initial two batches were slated for bottling by Christmas. For our purposes, we acquired some cloudy but light Table Beer, Futtle’s original ale, to complement our feast.
Our journey concluded with a short, single-mile drive to the idyllic fishing harbour of St Monans, where a pastel blue, two-storey building is nestled into the harbour wall. Bordered by the relentless waves on one side, East Pier Smokehouse stands as an acclaimed yet remarkably accessible seafood restaurant. Within its dining room and panoramic roof deck, they serve freshly landed mackerel, langoustines, and lobster, caught just yards away. The menu also features Cullen skink, crab, sea bass, octopus, and more, with takeaway options available, provided the kitchen’s capacity allows. Chef and co-owner James Robb modestly describes the restaurant as “a small, simple affair,” yet its most distinctive feature is certainly traditional, cupboard-sized smoker that opens directly onto the street. In continuous use since the 1940s, its internal 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 prevailing weather conditions – to cold-smoke West Coast salmon. Compared to modern smoking machinery, this is an exceptionally temperamental, old-school approach, occasionally necessitating midnight inspections. However, Mr. Robb has 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 of this exquisite salmon, accompanied by bread, butter, lemon, and capers. It was sweet, smoky, firm, and unequivocally the finest I had ever tasted. This was the perfect finale to our ten-component Christmas dinner – a true taste of Scotland, express delivered by Munich’s finest engineering.
This expedition has underscored the remarkable dedication and craftsmanship present within Scotland’s food and drink producers. From the hearty traditions of haggis to the delicate artistry of cold-smoked salmon, each element tells a story of passion and place. To truly appreciate the flavours of the festive season, venturing beyond the supermarket aisles and connecting directly with these dedicated individuals offers an unparalleled culinary experience. We invite you to embark on your own journey of discovery, to explore the local producers in your area and uncover the exceptional ingredients that can transform your holiday table into a true celebration of quality and provenance.
