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My Cullen Skink

  • Writer: Hobbychef
    Hobbychef
  • 13 hours ago
  • 9 min read

Updated: 2 hours ago

Cullen Skink is a traditional Scottish dish, a hearty soup that includes white fish, smoked fish and potatoes at the very least but often also includes cream and other seafood. Similar to chowder, it can be served as a hearty meal-soup but is often served as a first course on formal occasions in Scotland.


Cullen Skink with Japanese-inspired ceviche

Skinky Gerlinky

Cullen Skink is a traditional Scottish dish. Like various chowders, it's become something of a "poshy" dish; an opening shot on the menu of one great country "hyze" or another. But its origins lie firmly in the humble soup-meal traditions of the Scots.


I confess: my Cullen Skink is a wee bit poncy, perhaps too focussed on the "auld alliance" and the traditions of bouillabaisse. That's why I call it "my" Cullen Skink, because it's not typical of most received recipes. For a start, it's not "overcooked" in the way some are. Over the years I have incorporated things I learned from the archives of one of the chefs Mary de Guise, queen consort of Scotland and mother of Mary, Queen of Scots, brought to Edinburgh with her as part of her entourage from France.


Black pepper is a key ingredient in Scottish cooking. It's definitely connected with the canon of what French chefs brought to Scotland. Yet, a real game-changer, it was the role the Scots played in ending Dutch and Portuguese dominance of the Malacca Strait, the portal to the best pepper in the 18th century, that changed things . The menacing Scots intimidated the Dutch and Portuguese, cannily figuring out key commercial opportunities for themselves as importers.


During the early 19th century, as a result of Scots regiments involvement in the Iberian Napoleonic wars, Scotsmen who'd fought shoulder-to-shoulder with the anti-Napoleonic Spanish figured out good "retirement plans" for themselves. Some bought into sherry or married Spanish noblewomen whose dowries included aged sherry barrels that made whisky better. Others used their networks born in battle to become wily importers of luxury goods—fancy wines, olives, leather and Cuban cigars, among other things—to start new fashionable trends across the UK that made them rich. The Scots repeated this barely a century later, bringing plants back from the Boer wars capitalising on the Victorian craze for exotic flora fuelled by the trend made fashionable by Queen Victoria's husband and consort Prince Albert of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha. By then, poor old Albert may have long been in his grave, but the craze he started for gardening exotic species made some Scots very rich.


Back to fish. Cullen Skink reputedly originated in the coastal town of Cullen in Moray on Scotland's northeastern coast. As with many Scottish dishes, it was originally a humble, hearty "meal soup" that padded out limited resources, combining smoked fish with potatoes, etc.


During the 19th century, when the lot of local working folk improved, recipes started to include more expensive beef stock in the broth—the "skink" part of its name. This (fortunately) fell out of favour. Today it is largely a pescatarian dish. In Scotland, one of the things for which the dish is known is how leftovers, as with Partan Bree, can be still further reduced and "potted"; pressed and sealed with butter to be served as a solid starter or snack spread on oatcakes or Melba toast.


It is an iconic Scottish dish, often served on formal occasions—Burns Night, Hogmanay or at weddings. I respect this tradition, but that hasn't stopped me putting my own spin on it, such as using horribly French ingredients (gasp, celery!) or cooking it in a faster, less watery method than many recipes... not to mention the ceviche.


I'm nae snob!

In Scotland, probably the worst insult one might endure is being called a snob. The person who needs to fear this insult most is the laird. The Scottish will (begrudgingly) accept post-medieval European social structures. But, woe betide any laird who is not prepared to get his/her/their britches covered in shite in the fields or avoids getting pished at an important annual cèilidh.


This reflects an ancient social structure of meritocracy at the heart of Celtic cultural psychology. Long before the Romans, Normans and Anglo-Saxons started interfering, the Scots—while conveniently killing off the blue-painted Picts—lived in a Celtic culture that stretched from Ireland to Switzerland, a society in which women could be rulers in their own right or own property and in which birthrights held less preeminence than in other contemporaneous societies. The talented or loyal could rise through the ranks. This fluidity also stretched into other realms. They were a bit fruity. I wouldn't say they were bisexual in terms of today's metrosexual conceptualisation, but they did like to put it about in multiple directions and it didn't seem to be a problem. There are some fascinating texts about the "hardships" of early Irish monks who needed to convince Scottish women to give up their lovers—male and/or female—as they herded the unwieldy Caledonians towards embracing Christian values.


The connection between this and a soup is the soup. Cullen Skink might now have some highfalutin connotations, but its origins were as workers' food. I really hate seeing it described as "peasant food" mainly because it's historically inaccurate. The Scottish clan system was not the same as the dominant European feudal system. Scots were not bound to work specific lands for an overlord until the English swanned in. For them it was much feckin' worse: they were bound to family and clan, sometimes nomadic and sometimes bound to clan lands claimed by rape and pillage—and that was only the women who were sent in first...


Some 30 years ago, I had a conversation with two retired old codgers in a pub in Kirkcaldy that has remained with me. They had grown up together in a village near Montrose, Angus. They told me this story—because I told them I needed to get back to Edinburgh and throw Cullen Skink in front of rowdy wee lassies—about how, when they were boys, the people who worked at the smokehouse would bring the (Abroath) smokies, the fisherfolk would bring the cod and scallops, and their mothers would cook Cullen Skink for half the village.


This is the circuitous way of making my point: this is a dish born of sharing resources and always tastes better when you share it with others.

Cullen Skink with Japanese-inspired ceviche

Through thick and thin

Cullen Skink is usually served in its chunkier, chowder-like form rather than the smoother version I like to serve. Similarly, I've never come across anyone else serving it hot with the "island" of cold Japanese-inspired ceviche—so, yes, I'll have my eye on "youse" when it appears on the menu of your hipster Leith eatery. Obviously, it remains delicious without it.


I originally put this idea together to mark Burns Night in the centenary year of Yamazaki, the Japanese whisky brand born of the first Japanese man to study under a Scottish master distiller/blender. Masataka Taketsuru later married his mentor's daughter and they moved to Japan in 1920 where the house was founded. I always found it a terribly romantic tale; the man from Japan who fell in love with a wee Scots lassie and all that...


You can—and should—serve it as a chunky "meal soup" if you wish rather than the substantial starter I'm profiling here.


The quantities in this recipe serve 2 to 3 diners as a "meal soup" or 4 to 6 as a starter, depending on whether you deploy the ceviche or not.


3 top tips to get this recipe right:
  • There are three pillars to the flavour or Cullen Skink: white fish, smoked fish and seafood/shellfish. On the white fish front,I'm cooking it here with Icelandic cod, it's fine to use any other white fish. I'm using smoked haddock (finnan shadie) but it you want the really high-end version, use Arbroath smokies. And, while I'm using large prawns here, I just as often use scallops for the seafood aspect. Given its history as a make-do-'n-mend supper, there are no hard and fast rules.

  • An important aspect of this dish is that you don't overcook it. As soon as you start adding the dairy products, reduce the heat so that it never boils but merely simmers. Similarly, don't let it cook away for too long. It cooks relatively quickly and does not benefit from being left to stew.

  • The smoked fish flavour in this dish is vital. While it doesn't specifically have to be haddock or cod—I suspect basa may even work—it does require a truly smoked flavour. I think the biggest "failure to launch" was eating a version cooked by a German friend with smoked trout. Gorgeous as smoked trout is, it's a very delicate flavour that didn't cut the mustard in Cullen Skink.

 

Shopping list


for my Cullen Skink

  • 1 large brown or red onion; diced

  • 2 sticks of fresh celery; finely sliced

  • 1.5tbspns butter

  • 500ml fish stock; liquid or a cube/jelly diluted (alternatively, use vegetable stock)

  • A generous drachm of whisky (the cheap stuff is fine; best not waste...)

  • Approx. 2 to 3 medium-to-large potatoes, peeled and cubed

  • Approx. 125ml full fat milk

  • Approx. 120g responsibly sourced smoked haddock fillet (better still, real Arbroath smokies if you can lay your hands on them)

  • Approx. 120g responsibly sourced cod (or haddock, hake, sea bass or other white fish)

  • Approx. 120g raw, peeled large prawns, (or small scallops)

  • A large clasp of chives, chopped

  • 4 tbspns single cream

  • 1tbspn Worcestershire sauce (or finely diced anchovies)

  • Salt and black pepper to flavour

  • Rowan jelly (optional)


for the Japanese-style ceviche

  • Approx. 200g salmon fillets; diced

  • Approx. 150g raw king prawns; peeled

  • The juice and pulp of 2 fresh limes

  • 1.5 tbspns of teriyaki sauce

  • 1.5 tbspns takana (pickled mustard leaves) —alternatively, the equivalent in wild rocket, roughly chopped

  • Salt and black pepper to flavour


Sides

  • Oatcakes OR rustic, wholegrain bread


Cooking method

the Japanese-style ceviche

  1. No discussion. You have to start with this because it needs 24 hours—or at least overnight—to "cook". Mix the diced salmon and raw king prawns together in suitable storage with a lid. Squeeze over juice and pulp of the limes and stir in. Season with salt and pepper and stir in. Store, covered, in the fridge, stirring every 6 hours—don't worry about overnight: it will be fine

  2. About one hour before serving, add the teriyaki sauce and takana (or wild rocket) and fold in. Return to the fridge

  3. Remove with enough time for it to return to room temperature. before serving. Create your little "islands" in the bowls in which you serve the Cullen Skink


My Cullen Skink

  1. In a stove-top steamer, pour some of the fish stock into the bottom pot, adding a little whisky to the liquid as you bring it to the boil. Place the fillets of smoked haddock and white fish into the steaming tray above. Steam for approx. 8-10 min; until the fish is perfectly steamed. Remove from the heat and allow the fish to cool and rest.

  2. In a large saucepan with a lid, add a generous knob of butter, melting on a medium heat. As soon as the butter begins to bubble, add and sweat the onion until soft, becoming translucent. Add the celery and stir in. Sweat for 6 to 8min

  3. Once they soften, add the potato and stir, sealing with the butter and juices. Before the potato actually cooks, add the fish stock— both from the steamer and the remainder—and bring to the boil. Reduce the heat, cover and simmer for about 10min

  4. As the potato softens, add the milk. Bring to the boil and once again. Reduce the heat, cover and simmer for another 6 to 8min, stirring occasionally. Add half of the chopped chives, pepper and seasoning to taste

  5. Meanwhile, flake the smoked haddock and white fish inro large flakes, removing bones

  6. Check if the soup has thickened enough (if not, reduce for a little longer). Add the raw, rinsed prawns about 3 to 4min before you intend to serve

  7. About 2min before you serve, gently add in the large flakes of smoked haddock and white fish, folding in

  8. Add all of the cream and mix in. At this point, you can cook it for a further 2 to 3min and serve as the more traditional dish. Alternatively, blend into a smoother, thick soup using a handheld blender—or you can decant and do so in a food processor

  9. Rest for a minute or so before transferring to a tureen or ladling into individual bowls (in this case around the "islands" of ceviche)

  10. Garnish with the rest of the chopped chives and a dollop of rowan jelly (if using)

  11. Serve with a rough, rustic bread if as a meal-soup or with oatcakes if a starter. Enjoy it either way.


Alternatives

This is a vehemently pescatarian dish. If you require a vegan  or vegetarian dish, I'd suggest you try something like a Scottish swede, sweetcorn and pearl barley chowder, which is utterly delicious. But, this really isn't one of those "multitasking" dishes.


Similarly, for carnivores who cannae do without their meat, you could go for the 19th-century version that uses beef stock. However, it tastes like boot polish, I'd suggest you go for a traditional Scottish Cock-a-Leekie or Smoked Ham Hough.


Pairings

This is one of those dishes that doesn't need jazz hands, especially if serving it as a starter. Thus, I prefer it with understated, competent whites that don't do a song and dance.


We all know I often default to my beloved South African wines if we're talking of whites and, of late, I have really liked Cullen Skink with Southern Right Sauvignon Blanc 2020 on the value-for-money front.


However, I think my all-time favourite pairing with this dish is Niepoort Douro Coche Branco (2015). We had this when I cooked this dish for a Burns Night supper in St Andrews where I had to give a speech accepting a posthumous award on behalf of my father for this role in gender equality in traditional Scottish pipe music. Practically every pipe band from Canada and South Africa to Australia that he had set up had launched the era of women music directors of Scottish pipe music. It was lovely to hear the affection with which they recognised that my nutty father—who famously stormed out of a naval dinner shouting, "Would you want this for your own daughter?"—for the way in which he fast-tracked talented girls in what was, after all, his privileged hobby. Nonetheless, the ungainly lassies in whom he saw talent are now running the show. It didn't stop me needing a large glass before I could speak in a relaxed manner about the governor for 10 minutes...


Cullen Skink with Japanese-inspired ceviche




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