carmen_lj: (one; prehistoric funtime)
[personal profile] carmen_lj
Today I ate something called a 'buttery' after being assured it was some manner of Scottish delicacy in the north-east. This was a lie: it's a very squashed, very salty croissant. Made by Aberdonians.

A handy travel tip: when it Scotland, do not eat the native food. We stuff all manner of things into sheeps' stomachs before boiling them and declaring it edible; our native Irn Bru, a charming radioactive orange fizz that dissolves teeth on contact, outsells all other soft drinks, and our idea of making even the humble bread roll better is to load it with saturated fat and then cake it with salt. So that they'll keep for longer, even if those who eat them don't.

Date: 2010-05-13 09:54 pm (UTC)
ext_17473: (the mekons)
From: [identity profile] missbaxter.livejournal.com
I used to live round the corner from the Old Town Bakery on Aberdeen High Street. Butteries are only tolerable when they are warm and fresh out of the oven and when you are hungover. Otherwise, they are revolting and have a bizarre fishy aftertaste. The toffee and cream donuts weren't too shabby, though!
...and now I want chips with sauce. Damn.

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