Romance of the Palate – Monday October 1907

Been very wet over the week-end and all hands about the steading. Why shouldn’t I run across the Border and see the crops there? While around us the fields are almost all cleared, there are many full fields on the colder side of the Solway.

I had a real Scottish tea — soda scones and “tattie” scones to the dear music of the Scots tongue discoursing upon harvest and troublesome servants, corn, kye, calves and pigs. I cannot make soda scones of just that quality peculiar to the Northern farm house and so I slip into the kitchen to watch the “lass” baking her huge “faur’les.”

“Some folk pits in a lock o’ soda,” she informs me complacently, “bit ah juist pit in a pickle, an’ nae cream o’ tartar.” Does a new atmosphere work with the imagination to produce a sort of romance of the palate?

This entry was posted in Farming and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s