A number of countries follow Great Britain’s example - with the British Council - and attempt to use culture as a form of diplomatic soft power.
There is also the hope that this might promote exports. If, God forbid, Scotland were ever to opt for independence, she would start with one advantage. In London, at least as regards culinary matters, there already is a Scottish Council. It is called Boisdale, and it has been promoting Scottish cuisine from its Eccleston St headquarters for more than 30 years (there are three daughter houses, in Mayfair, the City and the Isle of Dogs, but they have not yet reopened after the lockdown).
Ranald MacDonald, younger, of Clanranald, is the ideal proprietor for such a venture. Although the various branches of Clan MacDonald are in dispute over primacy, they all agree on one point: that they are the oldest family in the world. They can certainly trace their ancestry to the Dark Ages - or should we call them the misty ages? The MacDonalds were powerful figures before Scotland had written records.
A thousand years ago, they were Lords of the Isles, exercising a quasi-regal authority over the Inner and Outer Hebrides, fighting off incursions from both the lowlands, the Vikings and later on, the Kings of Norway. As the Kings of Scotland extended their jurisdiction, they naturally came into conflict with this rival kingdom.
At one crucial juncture, the MacDonalds made a fatal strategic misjudgment. Before the Battle of Largs in 1263, they allied themselves with the Norwegians. Alexander 111 of Scotland, a warrior of distinction, won and set about incorporating the Lordship of the Isles into the Scottish Crown, Today, the title is held by the Prince of Wales.
Ranald himself is a character drawn to the romantic aspects of history and seems to have sprung from them. Tall and blond, with a chiefly mien, he looks more like a Viking than a Gael. One could imagine him commanding a long-boat in the days when ‘Lord protect us from the fury of the Northmen,’ was a prayer often uttered, not always answered.
As a restauranteur, Ranald started out with a crucial insight. Scotland has hills and heather, rivers, lochs and seas, rich grasslands. Between them, they produce some of the finest ingredients in the world. A chef who can make them sing will produce great food. Boisdale does. Its beef comes from the Duke of Buccleuch’s estates: grass-fed cattle, principally Aberdeen Angus, properly hung to enhance its flavour. There is no finer beef anywhere. Lobster, scallops, crab, mussels, langoustines: Scottish sea-food is hard to surpass. Aware of this, the Spanish send large numbers of refrigerated lorries to the coasts of Scotland. Boisdale manages to intercept at least some of this piscine treasure. Ranald also searches out the finest smoked salmon.
Needless to say, haggis is always on the menu. So is game, when in season. But the celebration of Scotland takes place in the glass as well as on the plate. Ranald believes that he has the finest collection of Scotch whisky on the planet. There is also a tribute to the auld alliance between Scotland and France, in the form of an excellent wine list, majoring on France, but with plenty of fine non-French bottles. Ranald has a further expertise: cigars. He has assembled a formidable collection, to be enjoyed on a delightful cigar-terrace.
Like many of the best restaurants, Boisdale is not just about first-class food and drink. In effect, it is a Club, with a loyal membership. Some are drawn by the live music. If you enjoy jazz or serious pop, this is the place for you. Jools Holland is the patron of music. If, like me, you are not an aficionado of modern music, the restaurant has quiet areas.
Ranald is under one disadvantage: Boisdale’s name. In fact, it is nothing to do with boys. It comes from a territory which used to be controlled by the MacDonalds and is part of South Uist, a beautiful island in the Outer Hebrides with a glorious beach looking out to the Atlantic and stretching for 20 miles. There are few finer beaches anywhere. If the sea-temperature was just a bit higher, there would be few better-known ones.
But a reputation for beef, grouse, haggis, whisky and cigars: I know girls, wholly feminine, who enjoy all five. Others may be put off, and conclude that this is a restaurant for boys only. Not so: there is always a sound selection of sea-food, always of the highest quality. I once heard someone compliment Ranald on being a perfectionist. “I hope so,” he replied: “At least until they invent something better.” If you are planning to reintroduce yourself to restaurant life, Boisdale would be an inspired choice.
