The Ultimate Scottish Christmas Feast: A Culinary Pilgrimage Aided by the Ultimate Driving Machine
The festive season in the United Kingdom often conjures images of cozy pubs and lavish holiday spreads. While many road testers might find themselves indulging in pre-prepared fare, for those of us tasked with crafting a truly authentic Scottish Christmas dinner, the journey itself becomes an integral part of the celebration. This year, Photographer Max Edleston and I embarked on an epic quest across Scotland to source every single component of our three-course feast, from the star of the show – the turkey – to the accompanying festive trimmings and libations. And to navigate the often unpredictable Scottish landscapes, we enlisted the help of a rather extraordinary culinary companion: the BMW M3 CS Touring.
Our two-day itinerary was as demanding as the weather forecast, which seemed intent on mirroring the dramatic, windswept beauty of the Scottish Highlands. We needed a vehicle that wasn’t just capable of carrying our precious cargo – think a Christmas turkey, not a small handbag – but also possessed the dynamism and sure-footedness to tackle anything the road could throw at us. The prospect of a Morgan Super 3, with its charming but impractical luggage arrangements, was quickly dismissed. We needed space, pace, and an unwavering grip on reality, or rather, the road.
Enter the BMW M3 CS Touring. This estate car, a veritable automotive oxymoron, is frankly ludicrously conceived. It’s a five-seater, leather-lined behemoth that’s been meticulously engineered for track-day domination. Its specification sheet reads like a motorsport engineer’s dream: a potent 543 horsepower output (an increase of 20bhp over its predecessor), extensive use of carbonfibre for weight reduction, a 3D-printed cylinder head, a lightweight crankshaft, and suspension components enhanced with rose joints. This is a car built to withstand the most extreme g-forces, and, as we discovered, remarkably adept at handling Scotland’s autumnal embrace.
Our journey commenced with a relatively serene trundle north from Edinburgh on the M90. The M3 CS Touring, surprisingly subdued when its special titanium silencer is engaged, offered a hushed cabin experience, with only a muted suspension intrusion and a steady steering feel. The Michelin Pilot Sport 4 S tires, while impressive, did occasionally generate a noticeable roar, but this was largely dependent on the road surface.
However, the true character of both the car and our culinary expedition began to unfold as we deviated from the motorway and plunged into the secluded glens. The B934, a ribbon of damp but delightfully smooth tarmac, twisted and turned through the breathtaking landscapes of Glen Devon and Dunning Glen. The M3 CS Touring, despite its considerable dimensions, moved with an almost balletic grace. In the gearbox’s gentlest automatic mode, the eight-speed ZF torque converter delivered seamless, elastic shifts, and the steering, with its razor-sharp precision, allowed us to place the car within millimeters of the verge, a feat made all the more impressive by the occasional darting red squirrel.
Our first culinary destination was the substantial premises of Simon Howie Butchers, a beacon of Scottish culinary enterprise on the outskirts of Dunning. A true local success story, Mr. Howie’s journey from a small village butcher’s shop to a multi-branch empire, supplying major supermarkets and holding the title of the UK’s largest haggis producer, is nothing short of remarkable. Between Christmas and Burns Night alone, the company churns out an astonishing 1.3 million haggis.
Operations Manager Robbie Crook, a genial host, guided us through the intricate world of Scottish charcuterie. The aroma of black pudding in the aptly named “pudding room” was enough to stir the appetite, but our primary objective was the haggis itself. The traditional concoction of minced pork, beef, and lamb offal, blended with oatmeal, barley, and a secret mix of seasonings, is the very soul of Scotland’s national dish. Simon Howie also offers gluten-free and vegetarian variations, with Crook noting that the latter often serves as an introductory “gateway haggis” for the uninitiated. The haggis balls, dipped in batter and fried to a delightful crisp, were a promising start to our festive menu.
Next, in the smoke-kissed confines of the bacon room, Crook explained the meticulous process behind their pigs in blankets. Streaky pork belly, dry-cured for up to ten days, then smoked over wood chips for four to six hours, is machine-sliced and hand-wrapped around succulent pork chipolatas – a quintessential Christmas side dish. With two crucial components secured, we re-entered the M3 CS Touring, as the wind intensified and the rain began its relentless assault. The hedgerow-hugging B-road led us across a swollen River Earn, its waters teeming with salmon battling upstream. The canopied sections of the road were increasingly littered with fallen branches, and water collected by the verges – a stark reminder that this was decidedly not Morgan Super 3 weather.
The BMW’s rear-biased, yet fully variable, M xDrive all-wheel-drive system proved its mettle, capably distributing power and allowing us to trace confident arcs through the challenging conditions, with nary a hint of trepidation from the steering. The only minor quibble emerged when encountering standing water, which could induce a degree of skittishness. Even on the least track-focused of the available tire options, the M3 CS Touring was clearly operating at the very edge of its comfort zone.
We bypassed the bustle of Crieff and ascended into the wilder terrain of the Sma’ Glen, its slopes ablaze with crimson ferns and heather. The exposed uplands towards Amulree offered a faster section, where the M3’s adaptive suspension, set to its supplest mode, provided a remarkably comfortable ride, save for a few noticeable reactions over particularly uneven sections on the descent into Dunkeld.
Despite the sodden conditions, Dunkeld revealed itself as a charming gem. Thomas Telford’s elegant seven-arch bridge spanned 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 skillfully maneuvered the BMW in front of The Clootie Dumpling café, our next stop in search of sweet indulgence.
Mike and Jacinta Cairney’s establishment specializes in the eponymous Scottish spiced cake, prepared according to the cherished recipe of Mike’s mother, affectionately known as Granny Margaret. Mike fondly recalls childhood birthday teas where the clootie dumpling, complete with a ten-pence piece, was a highlight. Any leftovers were often fried the next morning with bacon, eggs, haggis, black pudding, and Lorne sausage – a testament to the dish’s versatility and enduring appeal. Many customers flock to the café for this very sense of nostalgic comfort, a feeling amplified by the clootie dumpling’s traditional presence at weddings, Christmas, and Hogmanay celebrations.
Jacinta eloquently described their traditional preparation: a dry mix of flour, fat, breadcrumbs, raisins, sultanas, brown and white sugar, ginger, and spices, meticulously beaten by hand with treacle, eggs, and milk. A cotton cloth, or ‘cloot,’ is scalded in water, then floured before the dumpling mixture is poured in. The cloot is tied tightly, and the entire package is then boiled for a substantial four hours. The generous, warm slice presented to us, accompanied by cream, was a revelation – mellower and considerably lighter than a traditional Christmas pudding. We departed with a substantial half clootie dumpling, a treasure to grace our festive table.
Navigating through the full force of the storm, we pressed eastward towards Angus, traversing saturated country roads. The abundance of standing water made it feel as though we were piloting a vessel rather than a high-performance automobile. The subsequent 36 miles were a slow, deliberate crawl through a mere 200 meters of visibility, the 3.0-litre straight-six engine’s twin 2.1-bar turbos reduced to a mere whisper.
A much-needed warm welcome awaited us at South Powrie Farm, just north of Dundee, where we were to meet Thomas and Susannah Pate, the custodians of our Christmas centerpiece. Their farm is one of a select few across the United Kingdom entrusted with rearing the KellyBronze breed, renowned for its exceptional flavor. The Pates manage a flock of 600 turkeys, which begin their lives as day-old chicks – small enough, in fact, to fit comfortably in the back of the M3. Our chosen specimen, however, would grow to a considerable 15kg. While our planned encounter with the entire flock was postponed due to their sensible decision to seek shelter from the downpour, we arranged to return the following morning, hoping for a more continental sky.
At 8 am, 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 haven of woodland and long grass. Their plumage was truly magnificent, a deep, bronze-like brown with an almost iridescent, rainbow sheen. The adolescent males sported snoods and wattles – fleshy appendages of puce skin above and below their beaks – and proudly displayed their tail feathers. However, gender proved to be no determinant of social standing; this was governed by a literal pecking order, where dominant personalities would nip at the feathers of their inferiors. One particularly ambitious character even attempted a trial nibble at my wellington boots, then my leg. I vowed to perhaps revisit this particular individual in late December. For now, we secured a whole, frozen turkey, a testament to its impressive lineage.
In the immediate run-up to Christmas, the Pates offer fresh turkeys directly to the public from their farm and various collection points along the east coast. One of these points also happened to be a purveyor of seasonal vegetables, leading us on our next leg. Crossing the Tay Road Bridge into Fife, we finally encountered an opportunity to truly unleash the M3 CS Touring’s considerable capabilities.
In its most aggressive engine setting, the CS often remained bridled below 3,000 rpm. However, beyond that threshold, the acceleration was so forceful and relentless that it felt almost exponential. With the exhaust flaps wide open, the rising revs unleashed a symphony of ever-louder bass notes and mounting induction aggression – dramatic, certainly, though perhaps not quite spine-tingling. The sweeping A92 became a playground, consumed with effortless pace and an uncanny balance, the M3 CS Touring seamlessly melding with the asphalt.
The car was slightly less at ease on the more technical minor roads that followed, both in terms of cornering inertia and overall suppleness. Nevertheless, it remained an exhilarating experience, the aggressively bolstered bucket seats providing steadfast support.
With the CS thoroughly warmed, we paused at Pittormie Fruit Farm, a compact, 35-acre operation managed by Euan Cameron and his family. While their shop was closed after a bustling summer of fruit sales, the honesty box in their egg shed continued to jangle with the supply of winter vegetables, also destined for local restaurants and greengrocers. Cameron espouses an endearingly laissez-faire approach to cultivation, utilizing minimal fertilizers and eschewing both fungicides and irrigation. He’s forthright in his critique of the conformity and lack of seasonality found in today’s supermarket produce, stating, “I don’t force things. I like it to get there naturally. I don’t care if something is fugly.”
His ATV transported us to the vibrant brassica beds, where he unearthed a magnificent, well-stocked ‘sprout tree’ of the Bosworth variety, adorned with firm, green nuggets of Christmas joy. Cameron then extracted an unfamiliar, purplish-green mass of leaves from the soil – kalette, a sprout-kale hybrid whose florets, when cooked, offered a delightfully nutty alternative for those who find traditional sprouts a tad…challenging.
We were also in the right place for potatoes, or ‘tatties’ as they are affectionately known. Using a modified old harvester, Cameron’s modest two-acre plot yields an impressive 22 varieties, many of them quite niche. His preferred roasting potatoes are drier types, including Kerrs Pink and Golden Wonder, but the waxier Wilja reigns supreme as his favorite for boiling, oiling, and air-frying. Along with a few carrots, we loaded a generous bag of these earthy treasures into the BMW’s rear hatch.
With fresh tomatoes and apples to enjoy en route, we continued south across Fife’s characteristic rolling farmland, tracing gorse-lined B-roads. The perpetually faithful steering, always best in its heavier, more intuitive Sport mode, provided a crucial connection to the road, a welcome contrast to Comfort mode’s lighter calibration, which felt somewhat mismatched to the car’s considerable size and weight.
We were maintaining a good pace, and the middle of the three gearbox settings, in both automatic and manual modes, proved to be the sweet spot. In automatic, it allowed sufficient revs without dwelling unnecessarily in the upper reaches, while in manual, it offered responsive downshifts without the jarring, full-body convulsions often associated with aggressive mode upshifts. The optional, £8,800 carbon-ceramic brakes were both remarkably easy to modulate and devastatingly effective.
The main coastal road eventually brought us to a halt, and we pulled up at a converted stone stable block that is home to Futtle Brewery. The brewery’s name is derived from an onomatopoeic Scots word for pebbles being thrashed by the surf. Much of the large, open space is occupied by stainless steel fermenters, dedicated to brewing high-quality, unfiltered organic lagers, wheat beers, spelt beers, and pale ales. In a cozy corner, Ethan Russell Hogg was tending bar and curating the vinyl collection. “Our beers are fresh and different and take a long time to brew – six to eight weeks, sometimes more – which makes a higher-quality beer,” he explained. Unusually, they employ whole-leaf hops rather than pellets or oil, alongside a blend of malted and unmalted grains and locally foraged plants and seaweed for unique flavor profiles. Intriguingly, they also boast a ‘coolship,’ an open-topped copper vessel used for brewing Belgian lambic-style ‘wild beers’ that ferment by absorbing airborne yeasts before aging in old cider casks. The initial two batches were slated for bottling by Christmas. For our immediate needs, we selected a few bottles of cloudy but light Table Beer, Futtle’s original ale, to accompany our hard-won feast.
Our epicurean pilgrimage concluded with a solitary mile to the idyllic fishing harbor of St Monans. Here, nestled into the harbor wall, stands a pastel blue, two-story building that houses East Pier Smokehouse. Lashed by the waves on one side, this acclaimed yet remarkably accessible seafood restaurant is a testament to the bounty of the North Sea. In the dining room and panoramic roof deck, they serve impeccably fresh mackerel, langoustines, and lobster, all landed just yards away. The menu also features Cullen skink, crab, sea bass, octopus, and more, with takeaway options available, contingent on the kitchen’s capacity. Chef and co-owner James Robb modestly describes the restaurant as “a small, simple affair,” yet its most unique feature is undeniably traditional: a 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. At the base, a pair of angled channels are where Robb burns oak and beech sawdust for 36 to 48 hours – depending on the prevailing weather – to cold-smoke West Coast salmon. Compared to modern smoking machines, this is an extremely fickle, old-school approach that can sometimes necessitate midnight check-ups. However, Robb has evidently mastered this artisanal 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 the salmon, accompanied by bread, butter, lemon, and capers. The result was a symphony of sweet, smoky, firm flavors – quite simply, the best I have ever tasted. It was the perfect, sublime conclusion to our ten-component Christmas dinner, a true taste of Scotland, express delivered by Munich.
This culinary adventure, amplified by the dynamic capabilities of the BMW M3 CS Touring, underscores the rewards of pursuing quality and provenance. If you’re inspired to embark on your own festive food journey or seeking the ultimate driving experience to complement your adventures, we invite you to explore our curated selection of [BMW M3 CS Touring vehicles for sale] or [contact our expert team] to discuss bespoke tailoring for your next automotive endeavor.
