Page 19 of A Flower for Angus

“Oh, aye, they have a great selection of whiskey flights. We export some of the best whiskey in the world from the Inverness distilleries. One of the oldest, The Singleton Distillery sits on land that the Mackenzie clan has owned for 700 years. It has a long history of famous single malts. We should take a distillery tour sometime.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know anything about how liquor is produced. When I drink, it’s usually white wine,” Macy replied, ignoring the hint of a possible date.

Angus grinned. “Noted. The bon bons come in a whiskey sauce, so mayhap that will help.”

“I love the fish and chips,” Dorothy enthused. “All their food is really good though.”

Angus found a place to park and they walked to the pub. The cheerful blue wood signs on the stone background of the pub front, and the hanging pots of flowers were inviting and appealing as they approached the building.

Before they entered, Angus stopped them both. “Before we go in and get to the end of this meal and start arguin’ about who’s goin’ to pay, this is my treat.”

“I’m good with that,” piped up Dorothy. “Thanks, Dad.” She beamed at him.

“I can pay for my meal,” Macy insisted with a frown. She didn’t want to be beholden to Angus or encourage him.

“Do ye want to embarrass me in front of my friends?” Angus asked with a horrified scowl, his tone no longer jovial as he glared at Macy.

Macy’s breath caught. “What do you mean?”

“I have a friend who works here and if Jonny sees ye payin’ for yer own meal, he’ll ban me from the pub. That just isn’t done here in Scotland, lass.”

Dorothy was giggling behind her hand and Macy didn’t know what to think. Was Angus serious? Then again, when was Angus ever serious?

“I’ve never heard of such a tradition,” she finally scoffed, a grin hovering around her lips. “But if the future of your membership and palate is at stake, I’ll do my part to see that it isn’t destroyed.”

“Ye are verra kind, lass,” Angus replied with a satisfied grin as he opened the door and waved her and Dorothy through.

Inside the light, airy pub, the waiter led them to a table where they could see the view from the windows. “I always think of pubs as having low lighting, with high-backed private booths, and heavy wood floors that creek when you walk across them,” Macy remarked as they were seated.

“What would ye like to drink?” the pretty young waitress asked politely.

“White wine for the ladies and I’ll take yer best Whiskey Flight. We’ll also have the haggis bon bons appetizer, and then fish and chips all around,” Angus ordered.

“Dad, ye should bring Macy back here for dinner sometime,” Dorothy chirped. “The seafood here is fabulous, Macy.”

“She’s right about that, the seafood is really great,” Angus added, his eyes gleaming at her from across the table.

Macy was relieved when Angus started looking through the dessert menu. She shot Dorothy a disapproving side eye but the young girl was oblivious. From Dorothy’s enthusiasm it was obvious that she loved food, but after discussing the upcoming haggis lesson for tonight at the market, she got the feeling that Dorothy didn’t really want to cook. Her real interest, besides spending time with her husband, was her work. She positively glowed when she talked about it.

Her choices for her recipe ingredients that she had written down from Lucerne were just the first brand she came to. There was no careful selection of spices, cut of meats, or the vegetables. It was as if she had absolutely no interest in fixing food at all and didn’t care what they ate. Her most careful selections were the junk food she picked up and her brand of tea.

And she had to admit, the lessons she had joined with Dorothy and Lucerne showed a decided lack of interest on Dorothy’s part. She couldn’t help but wonder when the penny would drop for Ben?

Oh well, it wasn’t any of her business, they were all family and she was just the housekeeper. She smiled warmly at the waitress bringing their drinks and appetizer.

Macy didn’t know what to expect when Angus spooned one of the haggis bon bons on a saucer for her and covered it with the whiskey cream sauce. It looked like there was no way out of her tasting it.

“There ye are lass, give that a go.”

With a sigh, she speared the dark round blob with her fork and then delicately nipped off the tiniest piece she could get between her two front teeth. The whiskey sauce was delicious and smooth, which was a pleasant surprise. The tiny bit of haggis had a good taste as well. She took a bigger bite and gave this one a fair chew.

“It’s actually quite good,” she exclaimed. “It’s not at all what I thought it would be. The casing reminds me of our smoked sausages but our sausages don’t have oat fillers. At least I don’t think they do.” She popped the rest of it in her mouth.

“Atta lass,” Angus praised. “Haggis is a dish born of tradition. It’s a party favorite for Burns night.”

“What’s Burns night?” Macy asked curiously.

“It’s when we celebrate the birth of the poet Robert Burns,” Angus explained. “He was Scottish ye know, and even wrote a poem with a tribute to haggis in it.”

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