The secret o knotty tams rolled on wifies’ thighs
Norman Harper’s article on food (Leopard, March) took me back to holidays spent on a farm in Longside before the war. My recollection differs a little from what he writes. I remember there were three kinds of brose: plain, peas and neep.
Knotty-tams were different. They were made by dropping a tight ball of meal into a pot of simmering milk. The trick was to do this without the meal dispersing as soon as it hit the milk. (A trick I never mastered.)
I visualised the wifies in the farm rolling the ball of meal up and down their thighs like the ladies in Cuba making cigars. But the farm wifies back then kept their thighs ower weel happit for that.
Thinking back to supping knotty-tams still brings a lump to my throat.
Bob Adams,
Shore Road, Aberdour, Fife
Your excellent article about brose reminded me of staying at Glenmore Lodge when I was a student, 60 years ago. Most of our company were Scottish, but on one occasion we had with us a charming, neat little girl from London.
We stayed overnight in Bynock Lodge and in the morning we were all supplied with oatmeal and told to make our own brose. Most of us got on with it, and settled down to enjoy our breakfast. But, the girl from London was at a loss, and didn’t know what to do. So she asked her friends.
“Add salt,” said one. “Add sugar,” said another. “Add butter,” “Add jam”. “Add marmalade.” and so on…
The London girl added everything that was suggested to her, and the result did not look anything any of us had seen before. Even the most hardened stomach refused the offered chance of eating any of it. The girl quietly slid out of the door and deposited the mess on a family of innocent earwigs that lived under a nearby stone.
Before we had left Glenmore Lodge, that morning, she was heard to say that she was not sure that her mother would be happy knowing that she was going to spend the night in a brothy.
Gordon S. Kinloch,
Edinburgh EH10 5HP