Square-go over status of Lorne sausage

The Scottish Federation of Meat Traders’ Association, which is supported by Quality Meat Scotland, has announced that it wants to protect the humble square slice and prevent such sausage produced south of the Border or elsewhere in the world from being given the “Lorne” name.

Some might say that it’s the consumer who should be protected from Lorne sausage. But that would be unpatriotic. “It is a truly Scottish product and if, in this global age, we don’t protect it, we might find it is half-inched by someone else,” said Douglas Scott, chief executive of Scotland’s Craft Butchers.

“PGI status gives it a kind of kudos and means Lorne Sausage would be recognised as a Scottish product. It is really about putting the St Andrew’s flag on to it.”

The Lorne Sausage has attracted something of a cult following, particularly among ex-pats hankering for a taste of home. It even has its own Facebook site, “Appreciation of the Square Sausage”, which has 333 members, including many from England and abroad, and describes the meaty morsel as “rarely seen outside its native land but once tasted never forgotten” and an “ideal hangover cure between two slices of buttered bread and some ketchup or broon sauce”.

The more aspirational gatekeepers of Scotland’s culinary prowess are a little less enthusiastic and the nation’s leading chefs dismiss the idea of giving Lorne sausage protected status.

The Michelin-starred chef Martin Wishart has eaten Lorne sausage but finds it “awfully pink”, preferring a good traditional pork link. He does not serve Lorne sausage in his eponymous restaurants in Leith and at Cameron House, Loch Lomond.

“There’s nothing you can do with it except put in it a roll and smother it in brown sauce,” he said. “I just don’t like it.”

Andrew Fairlie, below, another Michelin starlet thanks to his cooking in his restaurant at The Gleneagles Hotel, described the sausage as “pink and nasty”, and said he hadn’t tasted it in a long time because of its high levels of fat and salt.

In Glasgow, Brian Maule of Le Chardon d’Or was equally bemused by the sausage campaign. “Lorne sausage is cafe food, and does not have a place in a fine-dining restaurant,” he said. “I’d use Spanish chorizo, Cumberland sausage and French boudin noir in my menus, but not Lorne. There isn’t much skill involved in making it. It’s just not ­sophisticated enough.”

Ooooooooh, as they would have said – aptly enough – on Chewin’ The Fat.

Do I smell snobbery?

Granted, eating too much Lorne sausage will make you look like a Michelin Man. But surely we shouldn’t dismiss it out of hand as a national brand if eaten in moderation? (Don’t try to tell me that Michelin menus are low in fat.)

A major drawback in the Lorne’s quest for Euro stardom seems, to me anyway, to be inconsistency. And that’s in consistency as well as the rest. Have you ever encountered two specimens of Lorne sausage the same? The hue of pink has already been alluded to. But visit a string of butchers and you’ll encounter the full spectrum of red. As for the teeth test, just what is the correct fat/meat/gristle/rusk combination that stops a slice of sausage grilling to a cork tile? Perhaps you just have to admit defeat and fry.

Would the real Lorne sausage recipe please stand up? Or lie down flat. Whatever.

As for Mr Maule’s boudin noir – well, that’s just French for black pudding. Scotland has a very fine one of its own in the form of Stornoway Black Pudding. Made to a 50-year-old family recipe, there is already a campaign under way to protect the Lewis pud.

And the Arbroath Smokie is already up there as a protected species. Add some Ayrshire bacon, a very selective free-range egg, an aromatic Scottish tomato and a tasty wee tattie scone and we have possibly cracked a real Scottish treat worth protecting.

So all hail The Full Scottish ­Breakfast™. Of course, you’ve got to eat up all your porridge first.