One of the perils of being a recipe writer is that people regularly ask me why I bother making things from scratch, because ‘You can buy that in the supermarket’. Now, let’s put aside the obvious question – do they think I’m not aware of supermarkets? – and engage with the issue. I love supermarket food. There are many products which are simply better shop-bought: baked beans, mango chutney, Jaffa Cakes. Countless chefs and home cooks have tried to improve on Heinz tomato ketchup; all have failed. There are also supermarket foods which, while not necessarily better-tasting, are simply radically more convenient. Oven chips, say, or filo pastry.
But consider the Victoria sponge. A shepherd’s pie. The humble crumble. I happen to enjoy cooking and baking, but even if you don’t, these things are worth making from scratch because the gulf between shop-bought and homemade is so large. And in no case is it larger than in that of the scotch egg.
The scotch egg is a simple formula: a boiled egg, coated in sausage meat, then breadcrumbs, then baked or fried. What could possibly go wrong?
It started so well. Fortnum & Mason invented the scotch egg in 1738. It was designed specifically to be both a luxury product and portable – for wealthy travellers to take on carriage rides. They quickly became popular and a staple of picnics. But their popularity may have been their undoing, because it was when these eggs began to be mass-produced for the modern traveller (who frequents service stations more than carriages) that it all went a little downhill.
Try a supermarket scotch egg – or worse, a petrol station forecourt one – and you’ll quickly see what I mean.
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