Stories, Steak Pie, and the Quiet Joy of Cooking the Year Out
- Meg

- Dec 28, 2025
- 5 min read
Updated: Jan 5
There are moments in the kitchen that linger long after the plates are cleared. The sound of a knife on a wooden board. Steam fogging the windows on a dark winter afternoon. A pot murmuring away while the light fades outside.
Preparing for our first Hogmanay in the Highlands has brought all of that rushing back. Hogmanay, more than any other celebration, is rooted in food as comfort and continuity. It’s not showy or fussy. It’s about feeding people well as one year closes and another begins — making sure no one crosses the threshold hungry, cold, or uncared for.
In every place I’ve cooked — from busy professional kitchens to quiet family homes — this moment between years has always been marked by dishes that feel anchoring. Food that says: you’re safe, you’re welcome, stay a while. Here in the Highlands, with the hills dark against the winter sky and the fire doing most of the talking, that feeling seems even stronger.
The Memories That Live in the Pot

Some of my strongest food memories aren’t about big occasions at all. They’re about the familiar. Perhaps this is partly because I am autistic and, like many neurodivergent individuals, I have safe foods that I return to time and again.
Watching the same dish cooked year after year. Learning where the smell should be when it’s ready. Knowing, without looking at the clock, when something has had enough time. Hogmanay cooking carries that same rhythm. Steak pie made earlier in the day so it can be reheated calmly later. A pudding that waits patiently while the evening unfolds. Food that allows you to be present, not tied to the stove when the bells ring.
That’s the kind of cooking I lean into now. And it’s exactly the kind of cooking I love teaching and sharing.
Scottish Steak Pie - A Hogmanay Classic

No Hogmanay table feels complete without a proper steak pie. This is my version: rich, deeply savoury, and designed to be made ahead.
Serves: 4–6
Prep time: 30 minutes
Cooking time: 3 hours
Ingredients
1kg stewing steak, cut into generous chunks
2 tbsp plain flour
Salt and black pepper
2 tbsp rapeseed oil or beef dripping
2 onions, sliced
2 carrots, diced
2 tbsp tomato purée
500ml good beef stock
1 tbsp Worcestershire sauce
A few sprigs thyme
1 bay leaf
500g puff pastry
1 egg, beaten
Method
Toss the beef in the flour and season well.
Heat the oil in a heavy-based pan and brown the beef in batches. Remove and set aside.
In the same pan, soften the onions and carrots until lightly golden. Stir in the tomato purée.
Return the beef to the pan. Add the stock, Worcestershire sauce, thyme, and bay.
Bring to a gentle simmer, cover, and cook slowly for 2–2½ hours until the beef is tender and the gravy is rich. Cool completely.
Spoon the filling into a pie dish.
Roll out the pastry, lay it over the filling, crimp the edges, and brush with egg.
Bake at 200°C for 25–30 minutes until golden and bubbling.
Serve with: Creamy mashed potatoes and buttered greens — simple, comforting, and perfect.
Spiced Cranachan Pots with Orange & Honey

A gentle nod to tradition, served simply and without ceremony. This dessert feels celebratory without being heavy, just right after a rich main course.
Serves: 4
Prep time: 10 minutes
Cooking time: none
Ingredients
200ml double cream
2 tbsp honey
½ tsp cinnamon
Zest of 1 orange
100g toasted oats
200g raspberries (fresh or frozen, defrosted)
A splash of whisky
Method
Whip the cream softly with the honey, cinnamon, and orange zest.
Fold in the oats and whisky, if using.
Layer the cream with raspberries in small glasses or bowls.
Chill until ready to serve.
A Hogmanay Cocktail to See the Year In
With a small story, as all good drinks should have. There’s a moment on Hogmanay that I love more than the bells themselves. The table has been cleared, the dishes stacked (to be dealt with tomorrow), the candles are burning low, and conversation softens into something reflective.

That’s when the drinks change. Not another glass of wine. Not something loud or overly sweet. But a small, warming cocktail — the kind you cradle rather than sip quickly. Something that feels like a pause between years.
This drink was born from that moment. The first time I made it, I wasn’t following a recipe. I was working with what I had: a good bottle of Scotch, a jar of heather honey, a lone orange rolling around the fruit bowl, and rosemary clipped from the garden in the dark with a torch. It felt very Hogmanay — resourceful, unfussy, rooted in place. Now it’s become a quiet tradition.

Meg's Highland New Year Cocktail
A warming Hogmanay cocktail for midnight. Soft and rounded, with warmth from the whisky, brightness from the citrus, and a gentle herbal note that lingers. It doesn’t shout. It murmurs, which feels exactly right as the year turns.
Makes 2 generous serves
Ingredients
100ml good Scotch whisky (something smooth rather than smoky)
2 tbsp heather honey
100ml fresh orange juice
A squeeze of lemon juice
100ml soda water (or sparkling spring water)
1 small sprig rosemary
Orange peel, to garnish
Method
Warm the honey gently with the rosemary in a small pan, just until loosened and fragrant. Remove from the heat and allow to cool slightly.
Strain out the rosemary and stir the infused honey into the whisky, orange juice, and lemon juice.
Pour into two glasses over ice, top with soda water, and stir gently.
A Small Hogmanay Ritual

I like to serve this just before midnight when the room grows quieter. Glasses are handed round. Someone inevitably says, “Oh, that’s lovely,” and then — for a moment — no one speaks at all. That pause is part of the celebration.
If you’re marking Hogmanay gently this year, let this be the drink that holds the space between old and new. No fireworks required. If you’d like more seasonal drinks, thoughtful menus, and Highland-rooted cooking, you’ll find them woven throughout my cookbooks and over on social media — where I’ll be sharing our first Hogmanay here, candlelight and all.
Here’s to warmth, intention, and a year well welcomed 🥂
A Quiet Celebration, Done Well
Hogmanay doesn’t need to be loud to be meaningful. A good pie. A simple pudding. A table cleared just in time for the bells. These are the moments that linger. They’re also the moments I love sharing through my books, my teaching, my demos, and my kitchen table.
A Wee Invitation
If this way of cooking speaks to you:
Explore my cookbooks on the website for more seasonal, make-ahead favourites
Join me on social media for cooking, Highland winter food, and real-life kitchen moments
Get in touch if you’d like to explore Thermomix cooking or book a winter demo or catering
Let’s cook the old year out gently and welcome the new one well-fed.



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