
The green walls of our tunnel tent glow, light shimmering and flowing in waves, the dawn chorus ebbing, reminding us that time is a-wasting. Waking slowly in cocoons of silk, down and nylon there’s a delicious sense of lethargy. We’re slow to get moving. Here, beneath stark basalt mountains on the Isle of Skye, the scent of sun-warmed earth and heather flows into the tent. Still in our sleeping bags, there’s good natured banter as to who has to leave the comfort of a warm bag to light our stove and get breakfast going.
Grumbling slightly, one of the team wriggles out of the tent, the fly taut with the heat from a cloudless sky. A rare and unexpected joy here in the far North West of Scotland, where one day of sunshine is a thing to be celebrated. The contrast in this landscape bewitches, and pulls us into its embrace. Packs lie in the lee of the tent, the pink loops of our climbing rope wedged underneath a lid, ready for today’s scramble along beautiful ridges, the beams of sunlight shading the rock formations, calling to mind a Jacob’s Ladder of sorts, ascending to the heavens.

Descending to the stream, Vreni slides up a sleeve and fishes for the drybag wedged between boulders, before filling the kettle for a brew. Inside, chilled in this makeshift fridge overnight are wild salmon fillets and hardboiled eggs, cooked the night before. Though the hue on the salmon skin is slightly muted, the flesh holds a dark pink hue, far removed from the pale colours of their farmed brethren. Coming across the farm yesterday added the final element to this morning’s breakfast: free-range eggs. Handing a little ball of crumpled cash to the farmer who raised the birds that laid these eggs gives a far greater sense of human interaction than any chip-and-pin transaction in a supermarket.

These types of exchanges are still an everyday occurrence in the region from which we get the other elements of our meal. Rice and spices from Indian markets mingled with the colonial additions of fish and eggs transform the local dish of kichirī into today’s morning kedgeree.
Though some kedgeree recipes include curry powder, no self-respecting Indian cook would ever resort to that vaguely brown powder that tends to sit in a jar at the back of the cupboard. Use the spices below, or add to it as you will – the flavour will be far better than any pre-made mix. Dried whole spices weigh little, and changing the quantities below can greatly alter the flavour of the recipe below, so we encourage you to experiment.


If you serve this as a pudding rather than a breakfast dish, you can make it with cream instead of yoghurt, and add a dram of good Scotch whisky if you feel like it.


