We might have to search hard to find memorable dishes which the Scots have gifted to international cooking, but what is undeniable is that they have given the world the strangest and most delightful titles for their own dishes.
Just flicking through Sue Lawrence's impressive new book, Scots Cooking, the names of the dishes alone provide a source of intense pleasure and mirth. What are "Fatty Cutties", you ask? Or what about "Partan Bree", or "Cullen Skink" or "Tweed Kettle" or "Roast Bubbly-jock", or "Stoved Howtowdie wi' Drappit Eggs". Never mind asking how you would cook these dishes: you have to ask how on earth you might eat them.
Scottish cooking, like our own traditional cuisine - with which it has a lot in common - is a simple matter based on the agricultural products to hand: fish and shellfish, game and beef, root vegetables, and staples such as oats, blood puddings, wild berries and whiskey. Like Irish cooking, it is a cuisine born of necessity and need, and as such, has a purity and logic which other more elaborate forms of cooking can lose track of.
In recent years, this simple cooking has been neglected and abandoned. Scotland is nowadays almost more famous for that chip shop special, the batter-covered and deepfried Mars bar (believe me, I am not making that up, it's the Glasgow Saturday night after-the-pub special) than it is for Arbroath Smokies or oatcakes or the fine grouse from its moors. Resurrecting the nobility of its great dishes gives Ms Lawrence's book an evangelical fervour. She concludes her introduction by boldly asserting: "There has never been anything wrong with homely fare. Let us revisit our roots, return to natural ingredients, eschew unhealthy processed foods and remember that Scots cooking means simple, honest - and, most importantly - good food". I suspect the Scottish culinary renaissance starts right here.
Cock-a-Leekie
The surprise element for me in this version of the great Scots soup is the prunes which Sue Lawrence uses.
Serves 6 1 free-range chicken, weighing about 1.11.5kg (2 and a half to 3 lbs)
6 long thick leeks (choose ones with plenty of green and white)
10-12 black peppercorns
12-16 stoned prunes
1 tablespoon chopped parsley
Place the chicken in a large saucepan. Halve the leeks lengthways, wash them well, then cut off the green parts. Chop these roughly and add to the pan with the peppercorns and enough water just to cover, about 2 litres (3 and a half pints). Bring slowly to the boil, then cover and simmer for about 20 minutes. Remove from the heat, cover tightly and leave for about an hour.
Then take out the chicken and use a slotted spoon to remove the leeks, which can be discarded. Chop the white part of the leeks, add to the pan with the prunes and bring to the boil again. Simmer for about 10 minutes, until the leeks are just done.
If you are serving the chicken whole, return it to the pan for the last 3-5 minutes or so to warm through. Otherwise, remove the chicken flesh from the bones, chop it into pieces and add these to the soup. Add plenty of salt and pepper to taste and serve with the chopped parsley on top.
Dundee cake
I have always thought of Sue Lawrence as a pre-eminent baker, largely thanks to her masterful book On Baking, a classic modern text. Here is her recipe for one of the great Scots cakes.
Makes an 18cm/7in cake
175g (6oz) unsalted butter, softened
175g (6oz) golden caster sugar
grated zest of 1 small orange
4 medium free-range eggs
175g (6oz) plain flour
1 level teaspoon baking powder
half teaspoon mixed spice (optional)
50g (2oz) ground almonds
110g (4oz) sultanas
110g (4oz) raisins
110g (4oz) currants
50g (2oz) candied orange peel, chopped
1 tablespoon brandy or whiskey
16-20 whole blanched almonds
Preheat the oven to 150C/300F/Gas 2. Cream together the butter and sugar until pale, add the orange zest, then beat in the eggs one at a time, adding a little flour if the mixture looks like curdling. Sift in the flour, baking powder and mixed spice, if using, then add the ground almonds. Fold in gently but thoroughly. Stir in the dried fruit and candied peel, with enough brandy or whisky to make a slightly soft consistency.
Spoon into a greased and lined deep 18cm (7in) cake tin and smooth the top.
Bake for 2 and a half - 3 hours, until a toothpick or skewer inserted in the centre comes out clean. Halfway through baking, remove from the oven, arrange the almonds on top and then return to the oven. Place a piece of foil loosely over the top, if it becomes too brown during the last half hour or so. Cool completely in the tin before turning out.
Scots Cooking by Sue Lawrence is published by Headline, at £18.99 in the UK