I AM old-fashioned when it comes to celebrating Hallowe’en. I am not a fan of how it has become "Americanised" with trick-or-treating and shop-bought costumes. I would say that, wouldn’t I? I am of the older generation, dyed in the wool and set in my ways. But have we lost all that innocent fun, in favour of commercialisation on a grand scale?

Hallowe’en, or All Hallows Eve, is an ancient festival, which reaches as far back as the Celtic festivals associated with harvest time in parts of the British Isles, but particularly in Scotland. Known also as Samhain, it is a celebration of the end of the harvest season and the beginning of winter. In the Christian tradition, it is the eve of a celebratory feast day to honour the dead, all saints, martyrs and faithfully departed. Today, many of the traditions connected with Hallowe’en stem from a combination of those associated with the ancient pagan rituals as well as later Christian ideology. The ways in which Hallowe’en has been celebrated in Scotland since the Middle Ages, are closely connected with the traditions we know today – and those of us who are older, remember Hallowe’en and its high jinx with great affection.

Dressing up in homemade costumes and making scary face masks were all part of the night’s rituals. We then set off around the streets guising (in disguise) visiting houses and performing a poem or song on the doorstep, in exchange for cakes, fruit, nuts or coins. A toffee apple was the biggest prize.

I have lovely memories of Hallowe’en parties, dooking for apples on the kitchen floor from the old tin bath carried in from the garden shed and trying to eat black treacle scones dangling on strings from the clothes pulley on the ceiling, hands tied behind my back. But more than this, the build-up to the big night was full of excitement as we kids got ready, making our costumes and planning our doorstep routines in secret. Of course, we all had to carry a turnip lantern and making one was a good deal tougher than carving a pumpkin is today. I can still remember the smell of the candle stump placed inside, as it slowly began to singe the inside of the lid and knotted string handle.

My most scandalous routine was dressing up as a highwayman, with sweeping black cloak, eye mask and a dodgy three-cornered hat. There were three of us in the gang. I had my wee brother’s cowboy gun, complete with penny caps and made up a song about highwaymen which ended with shouting, “Your money or your life”, to the occupants of the house, while firing the gun and caps into the air. When my mother discovered what we were doing, she was horrified and banned us from presenting the rude finale instantly. “You can’t possibly do that,” she said. “If there is a baby in the house, you might wake it up!” It took me years to truly understand why she had been so horrified at our antics. However, we earned quite a bit of pocket money that night, all saved towards buying our fireworks for the following week’s Bonfire Night – a very different historic occasion, which has survived the centuries.

As Hallowe’en is the night when the souls of the dead were once said to revisit their homes seeking hospitality, the pranks and play-acting are all about frightening off evil spirits, ghouls and bogie men. The traditions associated with food, especially apples, are harvest-related. In some areas, people would set a place at the table for any unexpected visitors and in others they would place a lit candle in a west-facing, open window, to draw them inside. The black, orange and purple colours which depict the festivities, reflect the colour of fire and darkness, the change in time from autumn to winter, when it was deemed suitable to remember the dead.

My later memories of Hallowe’en are with my own children, here in Skye, where there were not so many neighbours within easy walking distance to visit on a cold, dark night, but nevertheless, Eddie and I made the effort to get them dressed up to go guising. They took it all very seriously and loved every minute. I hope they too have good memories of reciting, “Witch, witch, where do you fly?” at Henry and Jean’s along the road at Colbost.

So for Hallowe’en supper, what could be better than a bowl of neep bree with warm cheese scones straight from the oven? Neep is the Scottish word for turnip, of course, and bree is the old word for broth. This soup is simple, inexpensive and delicious with its peppery, orange and spicy flavours. The cream adds a touch of luxury and gives it a silky finish. Neep bree and scones were on the first-ever lunch menu at The Three Chimneys and very popular with customers popping in for a quick bite at the restaurant while driving around Skye, especially on rainy days. It comes highly recommended.

Cheese Scones

(Makes eight)

90g wholemeal flour

90g white self-raising flour

½ tsp table salt

¼ tsp cayenne pepper

1 level tsp baking powder

30g slightly salted Scottish butter

100g mature white Scottish cheddar cheese, finely grated

1 large free-range egg

½ tsp English mustard

2 tbsp fresh milk (possibly more)

Method

1. Sift the flours together with the salt, cayenne and baking powder.

2. Rub butter into dry ingredients using fingertips, until the mixture is fine and crumbly.

3. Add 90g grated cheese and mix together lightly with your fingers.

4. Beat the egg and mustard together. Add to the mixture and bind to a make a smooth dough, using the rounded blade of a table knife. Add one tablespoon of milk to bind.

5. Using your hands, gently pull the dough together in the mixing bowl to form a smooth ball, adding a little more milk if the mixture seems too dry and still crumbly.

6. Place the dough on a floured board, knead it very gently into a smooth ball and roll it out evenly to 4cm thick.

7. Cut out scones with a 5cm straight-sided cutter, pushing down into the dough without twisting it. This helps make the scones rise evenly.

8. Place on a floured baking tray and lightly brush the tops of each scone with a little more milk. Finally sprinkle the remaining grated cheese on the top of each scone.

9. Bake on the centre shelf of a preheated oven, 220°C, Mark 7, for 12-15 minutes, until risen and golden.

10. Remove from oven onto a cooling tray. Resist eating until you are ready to serve.

Neep Bree

(Serves at least eight)

1 large neep (a yellow, swede turnip) peeled and diced small, discarding any woody bits. This should weigh approximately 500g when prepared.

2 medium/large onions, peeled and chopped small

2 large oranges, finely grated rind and juice

A thumb-sized piece of whole root ginger, finely grated

50g butter

1litre vegetable stock

Approximately 125ml (possibly more) fresh milk plus 125ml double cream to serve

Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

Freshly chopped chives

Method

1. Melt butter in a large saucepan until foaming.

2. Add onions and turn in the butter until soft, but not brown.

3. Add turnip and stir together well.

4. Add grated ginger, salt and pepper.

5. Put a lid on the saucepan and allow the vegetables to cook gently for 5-10 minutes, stirring occasionally.

6. Add orange juice and rind and stir well.

7. Add stock. Bring to boil then reduce heat and simmer slowly with lid on for one hour.

8. Add milk and liquidise thoroughly.

9. Check seasoning to taste and stir the cream through. Heat thoroughly before serving.

10. Serve with a sprinkling of finely chopped chives. If too thick, add a little more milk or cream, especially if reheating from cold.

Shirley Spear is owner of The Three Chimneys and The House Over-By on the Isle of Skye, and chairwoman of the Scottish Food Commission, which is helping to build Scotland into a Good Food Nation. See threechimneys.co.uk