The annual dinner celebrates Chinese New Year and Burns Night, both of which tend to fall around the same time.
We spoke to residents of Orkney and the Outer Hebrides to learn how they're prepping for a potential hard Brexit.
Brian Austin, Tobago-born owner of The Rum Shack in Glasgow, pipes in a plantain-covered haggis for his Caribbean-inspired Burns Night dinner.
According to a new report from the Bank of Scotland, half of the country's producers are confident their industry will grow, despite the disruption caused by Brexit.
From the whisky sold in foreign liquor stores to tartan-boxed shortbread clutched by Edinburgh tourists, we’re told that Scotland’s food is rooted in history. But many traditional dishes aren’t as “Scottish” as we might think.
My home country’s reputation as being culinarily challenged has not been achieved without putting in the work. Scottish restaurants have a way to go until they’re no longer the punchline.
“Scots and Punjabis are very proud of their own cultures so you get both of these coming together and it’s wonderful,” says Harry Singh, Glasgow restaurant owner and co-creator of the haggis pakora.
This week, Scotland’s rural affairs secretary will try to convince the American government to allow imports of haggis, a dish banned in the country since 1971 due to US laws prohibiting sheep lungs.
Headed up by The Wellcome Project and researchers at the University of Edinburgh, the study investigates the “history of the current stereotype of the Scottish diet”—namely, the deep-fried Mars bar.