Organic Free Range Turkey.

12/18/2005

Glen Trollaigh produces its mix of winter weather from clear crisp cloudless days, through to dank, dark and moody drizzle. The daytime temperature rarely rises above two degrees and on a number of nights has already fallen to minus six. The baronial figures have been suffering severe cold because of the strange genetical gift that Baron Hector left the Trollaighs all those years ago. However, I have found some wonderful new “Sealskin” waterproof gloves, which although devilishly expensive help a lot. Because I frequently forget where I have put down my gloves, and in view of the ticket price, Mhairi has fashioned a wonderful long skein of wool that attaches the gloves to each other via the sleeves of my tweed jacket. For some reason this seemed to raise a smirk or two in the Oban Tesco. Some people are bloody batty if they cannot recognise a jolly good idea when they see one.

With only a week to go before Christmas my supplies of quality food and wine are beginning to arrive from the south. I would never dream of buying meat or game other than locally, however, Scotland, or at any rate the west, is a desert when it comes to fruit, vegetables, decent plonk and above all the organic, free range turkey now demanded by dearest Dottie. I had to hide the fact that last year’s bird worked out at almost eight quid a plate, so I have furtively contacted some cove in Perthshire with only a mobile number to his name, who has assured me that he can supply the very thing at half the price. “Billy” seemed a little vague about the organic side but was confident about the bird being free range, as presumably he will be personally chasing the poor brute around some neighbour’s field under cover of darkness.

Supplies from Fortnum’s remind me of a great tale about old man Nicholson who bought the Shiants from Compton MacKenzie. Nicholson’s greatest pleasure was to spend the summer months there in hermit like isolation without any facilities save a most basic bothy. One year he arranged for a Lewis fisherman to drop him off with his regular two cases packed by Fortnum, as the boat pulled off the shore the skipper agreed to return in ten weeks to collect our castaway. Over a couple of days Nicholson heaved the supplies up to the bothy and carefully opened the first case in eager anticipation only to find a note of apology that Fortnum had been unable to supply the order for boxes of matches! The same Nicholson wrote an interesting essay about the relative merits of different species of seaweed when used as loo paper or toilet tissue as I believe we must now call it. Come to think of it, I should bring this to the attention of Diana Drummond, who must be having a Christmas party soon. Cheers, Yours Aye, Archie, The Baron Trollaigh.