by David McVey

YOU KNOW that Arnold Schwarzenegger film Jingle All the Way? His character spends the last shopping hours before Christmas frantically trying to secure ‘Turbo Man’, that year’s must-have Christmas toy for his child. The last couple of days in Advent, 2017, were a bit like that for me, though what I sought was something much more important than a throwaway toy. I was seeking an iconic yet strangely elusive example of Scottish culture. But more on that later. I don’t want this to be about my failures in grocery planning. I want this to be a celebration.

What’s the happiest phrase in the language? ‘Hampden roar’? ‘All you can eat buffet’? ‘Tory lost deposit’? No - it’s ‘Full Scottish Breakfast’, and if you substitute ‘English’ or ‘Welsh’ or ‘Irish’ for ‘Scottish’ the magic is undimmed. Now, I’m not here to lionise poor dietary choices, so yes, a full plateful every day or most days is not advisable, but every so often a Full Scottish is a choice delight, as long as you accompany it with porridge and fruit and fruit juice (and try to have poached rather than fried eggs and to grill rather than fry).