When Food Tastes Like Home - Late Summer Recipes from Loch Awe
- Meg
- 6 days ago
- 12 min read
As I write this week’s newsletter, I am sitting at our table looking out across a dark and brooding Loch Awe. The hills are disappearing beneath a veil of cloud and the water seems to change colour every few minutes—from pewter grey to deep blue and almost black.
I am struck, yet again, by how blessed we are to call this little corner of the Highlands home.
There is the ever-changing light across the loch, the sound of the wind moving through the trees and the daily walks through the woods with Bella and Bracken. Some days we hear the busy chatter of birds and the distant rush of the burns; on others, the woodland is so still that even the snap of a twig beneath your boot seems startlingly loud.
All of it envelops us in a wonderful sense of peace and belonging.
Life in a rural community has its challenges, of course. Nothing is quite as close as it looks on a map, deliveries require military-style planning and you quickly learn never to run out of something essential on a Sunday evening. Yet the beauty, the warmth of the community and the privilege of cooking for people who come to stay here make it all worthwhile.
A Compliment That Meant More Than He Knew
We received some wonderful feedback from our guests this week. Bella and Bracken even received a mention in dispatches, which they naturally consider entirely appropriate.
I appreciate every message, comment and review we receive, but one particular piece of feedback has stayed with me.
A guest originally from southern India was staying in Dalavich for the weekend with his wife and young child. On Friday evening, they ordered several dishes from our Heat & Eat menu, including my Butter Chicken.
They ordered from us again on Saturday. When Simon delivered their supper, the gentleman told him that it was the best Butter Chicken he had eaten since leaving home. He was intrigued that, in this tiny part of the Scottish Highlands, an Irish chef was cooking Indian food to the standard of an excellent, authentic Indian restaurant.
I hardly knew what to say.
Like many Irish women of my generation, I am not particularly comfortable accepting compliments. Intellectually, I know that I am a very good chef. I have trained, cooked, taught and developed recipes for more than 30 years. I also know that the food leaving Meg’s Scottish Kitchen is restaurant-quality food, made carefully from good ingredients.
And yet, every time a meal leaves our kitchen, a little voice asks: Will they enjoy it? Will it taste as I intended? Will it feel worth looking forward to?
Perhaps that small flutter of doubt is part of caring deeply about what you do.
To be told that something I cooked had transported a person back to the food of home was a tremendous compliment. It reminded me that authenticity is not simply about where a cook was born. It lies in respect for the dish, knowledge of the ingredients, care with technique and the patience to build flavour properly.
Food is a Form of Time Travel
This weekend, I have been thinking about the extraordinary ability food has to transport us.
A particular aroma can return us to a grandparent’s kitchen. A bowl of soup can remind us of childhood winters. The first blackberry of the season might bring back scratched arms, stained fingers and an old ice-cream tub filled with fruit gathered from the hedgerows.
Food crosses barriers of age, culture, language and experience. Sit people around a table and they will almost always find something to talk about: a dish their mother made, the way their family cooked potatoes, the best tomato they ever tasted or the cake that appeared at every childhood birthday.
You do not need to have lived the same life to recognise the comfort of being fed with care.
That, for me, is one of the great joys of cooking. A recipe may begin in one country, travel across oceans and generations, and find itself being cooked by an Irish chef beside a Scottish loch. It changes slightly along the way, but its ability to make someone feel welcomed remains intact.
The Late Summer Table
Late summer is a delicious moment in the kitchen. The days may be beginning to shorten, but the markets, gardens and hedgerows are still overflowing.
Tomatoes are at their sweetest, runner beans need regular picking and the first apples are beginning to appear. Brambles are ripening along the lanes and Scottish raspberries are still giving us one last glorious flourish.
This is not the time for complicated entertaining. The best late-summer meals are generous, colourful and relaxed—food that can be brought to the table on large platters and passed around while everyone helps themselves.
Here are two recipes designed with exactly that sort of gathering in mind.
Roast side of salmon with mustard, honey and arden herbs with warm new potatoes, green beans and lemon dressing
This is a wonderfully forgiving dish for entertaining. The salmon can be served warm or at room temperature, so there is no last-minute panic. Bring it to the table on one large platter surrounded by potatoes, beans and herbs.
Serves 6–8
Preparation: 25 minutes
Cooking: 25–30 minutes
Ingredients
For the salmon
1 side of Scottish salmon, approximately 1.2–1.5kg, skin on
2 tbsp wholegrain mustard
1 tbsp runny honey
Finely grated zest of 1 unwaxed lemon
1 tbsp lemon juice
2 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
A small handful each of parsley, dill and chives, roughly chopped
Lemon wedges, to serve
For the warm potato and bean salad
1kg small new potatoes
300g green or runner beans, trimmed
4 spring onions, finely sliced
2 tbsp capers, drained
A generous handful of parsley, dill or chives, chopped
For the dressing
4 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil
2 tbsp lemon juice
1 tsp Dijon mustard
1 tsp runny honey
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
Method
Heat the oven to 200°C/180°C fan/Gas 6. Line a large, shallow roasting tin with baking parchment.
Place the salmon in the tin, skin-side down. Run your fingers gently over the flesh and remove any pin bones with tweezers.
Mix the wholegrain mustard, honey, lemon zest, lemon juice and olive oil. Season lightly, remembering that the mustard is already well flavoured.
Spoon the mustard mixture over the salmon, spreading it evenly across the surface.
Roast for 20–25 minutes, depending on the thickness of the fish. The salmon should be just cooked in the centre and still moist. Remember that it will continue cooking slightly as it rests.
While the salmon cooks, place the potatoes in a saucepan of well-salted cold water. Bring to the boil and simmer for 15–20 minutes, or until tender.
Cook the beans in boiling salted water until just tender but still bright green. Fine beans will take 3–4 minutes; sliced runner beans may need 5–6 minutes. Drain well.
Whisk together the olive oil, lemon juice, Dijon mustard and honey. Season to taste.
Drain the potatoes and, while they are still warm, lightly crush a few with the back of a spoon. Toss with the beans, spring onions, capers, herbs and dressing.
Allow the salmon to rest for 10 minutes before scattering it generously with chopped herbs.
Arrange the warm potato and bean salad around the salmon, add lemon wedges and carry the whole platter to the table.
Meg’s entertaining note
Make the salad and cook the salmon shortly before your guests arrive. Serve it warm rather than piping hot and you can sit down with everyone else instead of watching the evening from the kitchen.
Easy seasonal swaps
Replace the green beans with garden peas, sugar snap peas or lightly cooked courgettes.
Use small roasted beetroot in place of the potatoes.
Swap salmon for a large piece of sea trout when locally available.
Stir a spoonful of horseradish into the dressing instead of mustard.
Add halved cherry tomatoes if you have a glut from the greenhouse.
Scottish Bramble, Apple and Almond Traybake with a crisp almond topping
This cake sits somewhere between a pudding and a traybake. It is lovely served warm with cream or ice cream, but sturdy enough to slice and eat with a cup of tea the following day.
The apples keep it beautifully moist, while the brambles burst into dark, jammy pockets as they bake.
Serves 10–12
Preparation: 25 minutes
Cooking: 45–55 minutes
Ingredients
200g unsalted butter, softened, plus extra for greasing
180g soft light brown sugar
4 large eggs, at room temperature
1 tsp vanilla extract
200g self-raising flour
100g ground almonds
1 tsp ground cinnamon
½ tsp baking powder
A pinch of fine sea salt
2 tbsp milk
2 medium eating apples, peeled, cored and cut into small pieces
200g fresh brambles or blackberries
40g flaked almonds
1 tbsp demerara sugar
Icing sugar, for dusting
Pouring cream, crème fraîche or vanilla ice cream, to serve
Method
Heat the oven to 180°C/160°C fan/Gas 4.
Grease and line a 23cm square cake tin, leaving enough baking parchment above the sides to help lift the cake out.
Place the butter and light brown sugar in a large bowl. Beat for 3–4 minutes until pale, light and fluffy.
Add the eggs one at a time, beating well after each addition. If the mixture begins to curdle, add a spoonful of the flour.
Beat in the vanilla extract.
In a separate bowl, mix the self-raising flour, ground almonds, cinnamon, baking powder and salt.
Fold the dry ingredients gently into the butter mixture. Add the milk and stir just until the batter is soft enough to drop reluctantly from the spoon.
Fold in the chopped apples and approximately two-thirds of the brambles. Take care not to crush the berries too much.
Spoon the mixture into the prepared tin and level the surface.
Scatter over the remaining brambles, followed by the flaked almonds and demerara sugar.
Bake for 45–55 minutes, or until golden and a skewer inserted into the centre comes out without any wet cake mixture attached. If the almonds colour too quickly, cover the cake loosely with foil for the final 10 minutes.
Leave in the tin for 15 minutes, then carefully lift it onto a cooling rack.
Dust with icing sugar and serve slightly warm with cream, crème fraîche or vanilla ice cream.
Meg’s baking note
Brambles vary enormously in sweetness. Taste one before adding them. If they are particularly sharp, toss them with a teaspoon of sugar; if they are very ripe and sweet, leave them exactly as they are.
Easy seasonal swaps
Replace the brambles with Scottish raspberries, blueberries or halved plums.
Use pears instead of apples.
Add orange zest in place of the cinnamon.
Replace the flaked almonds with chopped hazelnuts or oats.
For a simple pudding, spoon the mixture into individual ovenproof dishes and reduce the cooking time.
Small Seasonal Changes That Make a Difference
Cooking seasonally does not have to mean completely changing the way you eat. Often, it is simply a matter of replacing one ingredient with another that is fresher, more local and at its best.
Try one or two of these easy swaps this week:
Replace imported salad leaves with finely shredded Scottish cabbage, grated carrot and chopped herbs.
Use locally grown new potatoes instead of rice or pasta alongside grilled fish or chicken.
Swap out-of-season fruit for Scottish raspberries, brambles, currants, plums or early apples.
Add grated courgette to meatballs, fritters, pasta sauces and savoury muffins. Try using courgettes instead of carrots in traditional carrot cake recipes.
Replace ready-made croutons with cubes of yesterday’s bread fried in a little oil, garlic and herbs.
Stir soft herbs into butter, freeze it in slices and use it to finish vegetables, fish or grilled meat.
Roast a tray of tomatoes, onions and courgettes and use them twice: warm with supper, then folded through couscous or pasta the next day.
Choose locally smoked fish, cheese, eggs, honey or preserves when the main ingredient you need cannot be sourced nearby.
Freeze berries in a single layer before transferring them to bags. They will remain loose, making it easy to take out only what you need.
Turn very ripe fruit into a quick compote rather than allowing it to go to waste.
A Five-Minute Bramble Compote
Place brambles in a saucepan with a spoonful of honey or sugar and a squeeze of lemon. Cook gently for 4–5 minutes, leaving some of the berries whole.
Spoon it over yoghurt and granola, swirl it through porridge or serve it with pancakes, meringues or a slice of warm cake.
From the Kitchen: Make the Freezer Work for You
Late summer has a habit of filling the days. There are visitors to entertain, gardens to tend, berries to pick and the irresistible temptation to make the most of every dry evening.
This is when a well-stocked freezer becomes less of an emergency measure and more of a very sensible form of self-care.
Our Heat & Eat meals are handmade here in Dalavich, using the same care and techniques I would use when cooking for restaurant guests. They are frozen at their best, without preservatives, ready for the evenings when you want proper food but do not want to start chopping onions.
Alongside our familiar favourites, you will find curries including Butter Chicken, Chicken Bhuna, Lamb Rogan Josh and plant-based options, as well as pies, pasta bakes, cottage pies and comforting puddings.
No shopping. No cooking. Just proper food—and perhaps enough time left for an evening walk beside the loch.
A Little Help for Late-Summer Baking
If you have fruit ripening faster than you can eat it, this is the perfect time to bake.
Our baking mixes take care of the weighing and measuring, while still giving you the pleasure—and wonderful aroma—of something freshly baked at home. Try adding a handful of seasonal fruit to a simple cake or blondie mix, or serve warm scones with homemade jam and thick cream.
A few ideas:
Add raspberries to a white chocolate blondie mix.
Fold diced apple and cinnamon into a cookie mix.
Serve freshly baked fruit scones with bramble compote.
Add lemon zest and a scattering of blueberries to a lemon cake.
Turn slightly stale cake into a late-summer trifle with berries, custard and cream.
Our spice blends can work just as hard. Rub them into chicken or vegetables before roasting, sprinkle them over potato wedges or mix them into yoghurt for an instant dip.
What I’m Loving in the Food World This Week
The Return of the Packed Lunch
As the new school term approaches, packed lunches begin creeping back onto the weekly list. Instead of aiming for perfection, think in simple building blocks: something filling, something colourful, something crunchy and a small treat.
Frittata wedges, hummus, oatcakes, cheese, fruit, leftover roast chicken and homemade muffins all travel well and help reduce reliance on heavily processed lunch-box foods.
Preserving Without Pressure
Preserving does not have to mean spending an entire weekend surrounded by sterilised jars. Freeze a bag of berries, pickle one jar of cucumbers or make a small pan of compote.
Little batches are often more useful than a cupboard filled with preserves you never quite get around to opening.
Buying Local Beyond the Farm Shop
Supporting local food does not always mean buying everything directly from a farm. Look for Scottish milk, butter, oats, seafood, meat, eggs, rapeseed oil and cheese in your normal weekly shop. A few thoughtful choices, made regularly, can have far more impact than one occasional “perfect” basket.
Meg’s Late-Summer Kitchen Tips
Salt sliced courgettes or aubergines for 15 minutes before cooking, then pat them dry. This helps them brown rather than steam.
Dress potatoes for salad while they are still warm; they absorb flavour much more readily.
Keep soft herbs fresh by wrapping them in slightly damp kitchen paper and storing them in a container in the fridge.
Bring tomatoes to room temperature before serving. Cold dulls their flavour.
Do not wash brambles until just before using them, as the extra moisture encourages them to spoil.
Add a parmesan rind to tomato soup, minestrone or bean stew while it simmers, then remove it before serving.
When entertaining, choose one dish that needs last-minute attention. Everything else should be prepared ahead or happy to sit for a little while.
From My Bookshelf to Your Kitchen
One of the reasons I write recipes is to preserve the memories and stories that live alongside them.
Both My Spring Kitchen and My Kitchen Feasts are filled with the sort of food I return to again and again: generous dishes, trusted techniques and recipes designed to be shared.
If you have cooked from one of my books, I would love to know which recipe has become part of your own kitchen. Tag Meg’s Scottish Kitchen in your photographs or send me a message. Seeing my recipes take on a new life at someone else’s table is one of the loveliest parts of writing them.
Which dish immediately transports you home?
Perhaps it is your mother’s stew, your grandmother’s apple tart, the curry you ate growing up or the first meal someone cooked for you when you needed looking after.
Come and share your answer on our social media pages. I have a feeling this could become a rather wonderful collection of food memories.
And if you make either of this week’s recipes, please tag Meg’s Scottish Kitchen so I can see what is appearing on your late-summer tables.
As the loch grows darker outside my window and Bella and Bracken begin to hint that supper is overdue, I am reminded that food does not need to be grand to be meaningful.
Sometimes it is a beautifully cooked piece of fish shared around a crowded table. Sometimes it is curry eaten from your lap after a long journey. Sometimes it is a bowl of something familiar that tastes, for a moment, exactly like home.
Whatever you are cooking this week, I hope it brings a little pleasure to your table.
With love from our kitchen beside the loch.
Meg xx
Meg’s Scottish Kitchen
Where the seasons shape the table
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