18/09/2026
A Scottish food writer called my research embarrassing. Morning rolls are nothing to be embarrassed by.
Last week, a Scottish food writer published an article criticising my campaign to have the Scottish morning roll considered for the UK Inventory of Living Heritage and circulated it through their newsletter.
I had initially intended to leave it there. Scotch beef belongs in the pan, not the feed.
However, the Scottish food industry is a small world and enough people have now sent me the article that I am concerned colleagues, potential employers and people who know my work may have encountered it. There are therefore two things I want to address.
First, the research.
The article attempted to fact-check my work using quotes taken from newspaper coverage, without seeing my research or speaking to me about it. As a historian, my ability to work depends on people trusting me to research carefully and to translate that research into accurate, engaging stories that pique people's interest. This person is a well-known and respected individual in the Scottish food scene. Their newsletter will impact my livelihood.
Journalist quotes exclude citations and context. This food writer knows better than to fact check an article. They are also established enough to be aware of the professional courtesy that exists between historians; you don’t undermine their research without making contact. They will be welcome to critique my research, along with the rest of Scotland, once it is complete and when the expression of interest is lodged with the UK Inventory of Living heritage.
The second issue is much bigger than me.
In criticising the campaign, the writer said:
“I am embarrassed some sink so low when we have other Intangible Cultural Heritage we could celebrate.”
They argued:
“Scotland needs to move on from the deep-fried chocolate bar and white pappy bread image when we have so much more to offer if we wish to be a world class food destination.”
“…I have seen no mention of quality and the mass-produced rolls that are being ‘celebrated’ are at best refined carbs, with the majority filled with cheap imported bacon.”
I think we need to talk about what those words imply.
Scottish food is often painted into two caricatures. There is an image of a tartan table cloth, laden with Aberdeen Angus beef, Scottish seafood, wh**ky and exceptional produce that we use to market Scotland to the rest of the world.
The other caricature is of a deep fried mars bar and a bag of chips that sit next to a BMI chart. This caricature is used as a shorthand for poor health, poor choices and often, poor people.
I grew up in poverty in Paisley in the 1990s. Much of the food that we ate as a family was built around inexpensive carbohydrates and affordable proteins. I rarely saw the food on my plate being represented in Scotland’s food story. By extension, I learned that my food was something to be embarrassed by.
Then I became a food historian. As I learned about my history of my family recipes, I experienced a radical shift in the stories I was telling myself. When I understood the context of working-class food and the plain fare that sustained my labouring ancestors, I was able to remove shame. It changed my entire perspective on being “Scottish”.
This is why I’m a food historian. I don’t want Scotland’s young people to need a radical shift; I want them to grow up seeing their food being celebrated. All of it.
Living Heritage is not a prize for nutritional virtue or culinary excellence. Working-class culture does not have to become artisanal before it becomes worthy of documentation. White flour does not erase cultural significance and mass production does not negate family traditions.
I don’t ask that anyone agree that morning roll represent the best of Scottish food. I will ask you to acknowledge that the orders, regional rivalries, family memories and breakfast rituals of morning rolls are real and important to many many Scots.
I chose morning rolls because they mean something to me. If another tradition means something to you, take up the mantle. Research it. Speak to the people who make it. Gather the community around it and make the case for it.
There is room here for all of Scotland’s food. Be it in wrappers, cans or buttered paper bags.
