Cyder with Eloise

Cullen Skink or Smoked Haddock Chowder – A traditional soup named after the fishing village of Cullen, in Morayshire on the north-east coast of Scotland. Often served as a starter in a traditional Burns Night Supper on the 25th January, followed by Haggis, neeps & tatties, but I’m happy to eat it any time of year, with some crusty bread and butter.

Ingredients
250ml milk
5 black peppercorns
1 bay leaf
1 large undyed smoked haddock fillet
25g butter
1 large onion
400g potato, peeled and chopped into approx 1cm cubes (I suggest maris piper or another variety that mashes well)
150ml fish stock
salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 tbsp parsley, chopped

Method
Bring the 150ml of milk with peppercorns and bay leaf to the boil and then turn down to a simmer, add the haddock and poach 4 minutes. Remove from the pan and set aside to cool. Discard the milk. Once cool you will be able to remove the skin from the haddock and any large bones. Flake the haddock onto a plate and set aside to add to the soup later.
Melt the butter and soften the onions until very soft but careful not to brown, then add the potatoes, remaining milk and fish stock and bring to the boil. Reduce to a simmer for about 10 minutes or until the potatoes have started to break up then add the haddock, for about 5 minutes.
Season with salt and pepper and then serve with some parsley sprinkled on top.

NB: Cullen Skink is just one version of the tradition and there are many other traditional Burns night supper traditions and it’s not the time of year to go into details, but if your interested then check out this website.

Here is a little ditty Rabbie Burns wrote you may have heard it but now you can brush up on the words to sing this hogmanay.

Auld Lang Syne

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And auld lang syne!

Chorus.-For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne.
We’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.

And surely ye’ll be your pint stowp!
And surely I’ll be mine!
And we’ll tak a cup o’kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.

We twa hae run about the braes,
And pou’d the gowans fine;
But we’ve wander’d mony a weary fit,
Sin’ auld lang syne.

We twa hae paidl’d in the burn,
Frae morning sun till dine;
But seas between us braid hae roar’d
Sin’ auld lang syne.

And there’s a hand, my trusty fere!
And gie’s a hand o’ thine!
And we’ll tak a right gude-willie waught,
For auld lang syne.