"Shame on all of us for letting this get to where we are now."
I know what you are thinking but this quote is seven years old, issued during the red heat of another battle. A scandal had set the sport of curling afire. Performance enhancing broom heads were giving some an unfair advantage. A Canadian team had sent a shouty e-mail calling for regulation.
Curling was on one of the televisions showing the Winter Olympics at my office gym. Two scrubbers worked furiously, coaxing the stone to wherever it needed to go. I started on a read of the game's rules that evening but got distracted by another, more interesting story on Ailsa Craig, the Scottish island containing the granite used to make the curling stones for the Olympics.
The Marquessate of Ailsa took its name from the island. A road in St. Margarets is named Ailsa after the peer, a one-time resident of the area. A walk across the river had brought us here to see a "cubist influenced" house, the ground floor view lost to construction work. Next stop was at the Globe Central apartment building, a converted art deco printing works. I got a fillet of smoked haddock on the way back for my Cullen skink.
The spinoff now has a name – insert drum roll and bagpipes – Building an Appetite. Credits to Rachel – fellow Londoner, top Dorsetine and Cook Every Country patron.
I poached the fish, cooled, deskinned, and flaked. I fried a shallot, a leek, and cubed taters in butter. I added the cooking liquid, milk, the flaked fish, and white pepper. I scooped two ladles for the garnish and mashed the rest. I poured the soup into a bowl, cluster bombed with finely chopped chives and served. Braw scran!
Krishnan
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