Stovies

Since the gluten-free pasta situation is still in a fluxious state, we've been eating a lot of potatoes chez Fractured Amy.  I tend to bake the tubers six or eight at a time for a dinner of what Sir insists on calling 'jacket potatoes' followed by mash a day or two later. This time of year, though, the Russets start to get big and bold and suddenly six potatoes are more than three people can comfortably eat over two meals. Faced with a second bowl of leftover mash this morning, I considered my options and hit upon that olde Scots standby, stovies.

Now, stovies should not be confused with bubble and squeak (potatoes and cabbage, English version), colcannon (potatoes and cabbage, Irish version); rumbledethumps (potatoes and cabbage, Scottish Borders version), or panackelty (corned beef and potatoes, Geordie version). The name, fittingly enough, is derived from the Scots for 'stew'. The dish is traditionally made by frying up potatoes and onions in some sort of animal fat and adding leftover stew or whatever bits and bobs are remaindered from the Sunday roast. They are best when served up hot from the oven with lots of black pepper. I know, I know. They are gluten-free, not calorie or cholesterol-free.

There is nothing highfalutin' about stovies. My favorite version used to come from the chip shop up the road from my Edinburgh office, where they were served unashamedly in styrofoam cups at lunchtime. Despite their humble origins, however, they often appear on the menus of fine Scottish and northern English restaurants (tarted up, of course) and have a wide and somewhat fanatical fan base (Facebook's Stovies Appreciation Society had 3,367 members at last count). I attribute stovies' popularity to their warming, comforting appeal and the delicious aroma that fills the kitchen when they are in the oven.

The trouble I had writing that last paragraph leads me to a question: is stovies singular or plural? According to the Scots-English dictionary helpfully provided online by Wikipedia, it is plural in English and singular in Scots. That figures. What it is in American, heaven only knows.

Here is how I made the stovies for breakfast this morning. I started with some spare uncooked bacon from a dinner of spaghetti carbonara I prepared a couple of nights ago (made with De Boles' corn spaghetti - sadly, the technique for cooking g/f spaghetti still needs some work, or I would have shared it long before now). I chopped up the bacon and browned it in an ovenproof skillet. Upon removing the slightly crispy lardons from the pan, I added a chopped onion to the bacon fat, seasoned it with thyme, and cooked it over a medium-low heat until soft and sweet. I reintroduced the bacon, stirred it around for a minute, then spread the mashed potatoes over the top (they were already well-seasoned with salt and pepper from an earlier dinner). The pan went into a 375 deg F oven for about 15 minutes, where the potatoes puffed up and became nicely golden and toasty. The result was almost sliceable, with lovely distinct layers - although it's perfectly appropriate to dollop stovies into a bowl using a soup ladle.

Sir reported feeling like a Lanarkshire coal miner during the feast, and actually used the word 'fodder' to describe the dish before him (I'm pretty sure he meant this in a positive way, as in 'good wholesome fodder'). I decided they tasted good enough to ignore the fact that I could hear my arteries slamming shut. And the Kid Squid, allowing that they were a nice change from plain mash, snarfed his in about thirty seconds flat.

I may need to start baking Russets ten at a time.


Stovies fresh from the oven:
muckle braw!