All Creatures Great ... and Creepy

Bailey and her mistress

Britain is a country that loves its dogs, and, so, let's begin there. Along the banks of the River Ness in Inverness, I met Bailey and his mistress. Bailey is a two-year-old greyhound who never raced. Slim, with a halting walk, he broke his hip while playing with another dog and ran into a tree.

Newfie at Loch Ness

Along Loch Ness, we came across two handsome dogs cavorting in the sand - this young Newfoundland mix and his mom, a lovely golden retriever. Chasing each other, sticks and balls, they seemed to be having the greatest time. I, on the other hand kept an eye out for the legendary Loch Ness monster. The closest I came was a mirage of Margaret Thatcher. A waitress in Inverness told us a story about when she and her husband had a restaurant on the shores of Loch Ness. Her daughter kept agitating to see the Loch Ness monster. Mom kept saying there was no Loch Ness monster. Finally, mom snapped, widened her eyes, bared her teeth, and snarled at her daughter, "I'm the Loch Ness monster." That's a serious conversation shut-down.

Newfie's mom

George, a rough-coat collie in Sleat

     

Gun Lodge cat; didn't move throughout a long supper

Ziggy, the Uig Hotel border collie

Rabbits - coneys, in Scotland - at The Castle, Inverness

OK, this is not a real dog, but rather a collection point for guide
dog training. The Brits have these collection sculptures in a variety of places, as well as collection boxes and charity shops supporting the RSPCA.

Nursing milk cow on a two-lane road

There's a surprising amount of open range in Scotland, something with which we westerners are pretty familiar. On the way to Glen Elg, traffic stopped in both directions while this dairy cow nursed her calf. Eventually, an enterprising driver and I hazed her off the roadway, the calf nursing all the while. Then, there was this roving pack of feral black-faced sheep that appeared not to have been sheared for years.

 

This handsome fellow was guarding a small bridge

This shy lamb hid behind a rock...

...until she and mom got hungry

We found these sheep - and then found us - when we visited the graveyard at Cill Chrisoid. The sheep kept their distance, hiding behind roadside rocks and ducking into bar ditches, until we entered the graveyard grounds. Then, these two ambled across the road and looked up at us expectantly. The reason became obvious as we observed widespread sheep pellets on the closely-cropped graveyard grass. Clearly, it was lunch time, and they were hoping we'd open the graveyard gate for them.

These herring gulls are everywhere, so why do people feed them?

Web spider at Cullodden battlefield parking lot

Hermaphrodotic black slug...

...beloved only by hedgehogs

And the stars of the show, the beautiful Highland cattle or, as one of our Idaho neighbors calls them, "hippie cows"

 

What's Wrong With British Food?

Nothing. OK, we had our share of "meh" meals during our trip to Scotland - like the fish and chips we had for our first meal in Inverness. But, in fairness, The Filling Station advertised itself as "An American Restaurant and Bar." Our bad, but we'd just gotten into town, were famished, and it was the first place we saw. Even so, the haggis bites were a pretty tasty appetizer. By comparison, I had some great haddock and chips at Hector's Bothy in Kyle, along with a pint of Old Speckled Hen red ale.

This would be a good time to diverge into my beer and single malt tasting. The Brits (including Scots) brew some really good and some really bad beers and ales. Low on my list for this trip were Tennent's lager (think an American light beer), Bellhaven's Best (a low-grade cream ale) and Efes, a Turkish pilsner.  Oh, but there were some delights. Cock of the North ale; Red MacGregor, a Scottish ale from Orkney; Red Cuillin pale ale, brewed on the Isle of Skye; Highlander Ale; Cairngorm Tradewinds, brewed in Aviemore; and Deuchars IPA - a favorite of Ian Rankin's character of John Rebus - unbelievably brewed by the same company responsible for Bellhaven's.

Speaking of Rebus, in Rankin's series teetotalers and cops on the wagon usually choose Irn-Bru. It's iconically Scottish soft drink. There's even an Irn-Bru cycling jersey available from British manufacturer Foska. It's highly-carbonated, bright orange, and tastes like weak apricot soda. I tried it once, and that was quite enough.

Being Type 1 diabetic, I had to give myself a bit extra insulin whenever I had beer or ale with a meal. Not so with whiskeys. Nearly 40 years ago, I was introduced to Laphroig single malt by cousin Henry in the bar of the Cardiff Arms Hotel. I liked the heavy, peaty taste. Not so much anymore. A couple of years ago, I switched to Bowmore, a lighter malt, also from the Isle of Islay (pronounced Illy). But, I thought this would be a good opportunity to sample a wide variety of single malts and see if I wanted to choose a new favorite. I did.

A friend from my University of Wyoming days favored Glenmorangie. As with so many I tried, it had a smooth start and a rough finish. Not what I wanted. Same with Talisker, distilled on the Isle of Sky. A pub where we'd stopped for lunch had a special on Dalmore 12-year-old. It was love at first taste, so much so that I took a tour of the Dalmore distillery in Alness. Still, I wanted to be sure this was what I wanted to buy a bottle of (yes, I  just ended a sentence with a preposition). I tried Cardhu; hated it. A nice blend, Te Bheag, in Sleat.

Then, a clerk at a woolen shop in Inverness recommended two single malts from his Orkney home - Jura and Highland Park. Jura didn't do it for me; too harsh. But Highland Park, ah, that was another story. Beautiful from tip of tongue, through the mouth, and finish in the throat. That was the one.

Interesting economics of buying Scotch. Prices at the Gatwick Airport duty-free shop were higher than local Scottish liquor stores or gift shops. Using my smart phone, I found lower prices at Total Wine, a COSTCO of beer, wine and spirits in Spokane Valley. So, yesterday, I picked up a bottle of Highland Park and a six-pack of Old Speckled Hen, the only one of the British beers I favored during my trip which they had.

Back to food. We usually had breakfast in our flats (porridge for me; a croissant for Karen), ate lunch out, and usually ate a takeout dinner at "home." We had some fabulous meals, including a fall-off-the-bone lamb shank at Aspendos, a Turkish restaurant in Inverness; langoustinos, and venison steak on a round of black pudding at the Gun Lodge Hotel in Ardersier; venison pate, and sea trout with mussels and crisp vegetables at the Dores Inn; sea bass with leek risotto and cherry tomatoes at the Uig Hotel. We also had a variety of insanely good pastries with tea throughout Scotland.

Lamb shank

Venison steak on black pudding round with vegetables

Sea bass with leek risotto

Sea trout with mussels and  vegetables

Finally, a note on Scottish supermarkets. Whether the food court at Marks & Spencer in Inverness, Morrisons, or the Co-operative Food stores (seemingly everywhere), take-out options are terrific. Indian, being the new national food of Great Britain, the stores had ready-to-heat tikkas, baltis, rogans, tandooris, saag, naan, garlic mushrooms, and more; there were lamb shanks and pork shanks; pub favorite cottage pies, steak and ale pies, steak and kidney pies, toad-in-the-hole, bangers (sausages) and mash; roasted duck legs in a variety of sauces.

And now, a couple of pounds heavier, I'm back to cooking. Chicken and mushrooms tonight. And, maybe, an Old Specked Hen.