Wild food photography on Loch Fyne

Food Photography with the Wild Kabn Kitchen

Scotland here I come

Early in the year I find out I’ll need to travel to Scotland for my sister’s wedding. I’ve never been but, as I think about the trip, a rush of romantic, whimsical Highland food and landscape imagery floods through my mind. I know Scotland has fantastic produce and I know I want to see a little of the west coast, so it’s not long before I’ve extended my trip to include a visit with William Hamer and Charles Teale, who run the Kabn Company and Wild Kabn Kitchen, right on the edge of Loch Fyne. 

Leaving Edinburgh Airport, myself and my 14-year-old daughter drive past Glasgow, over the River Clyde and up to Loch Lomond. At the first sight of steep mountains erupting from the Loch I remove my daughter’s phone from her hand and encourage her to look out of the car window at where we are. We’re in Scotland! 

At every bend of the road there’s a view I want to stop and shoot, but we’re running behind schedule because of an airline and baggage issue, so we continue on over Beinn an Lochain mountain, past Loch Restil and down by Butter Bridge to Loch Fyne. We then drive down through the Ardkinglas woodlands to find Ardkinglas Estate house, a couple of simple rendered cottages and Will. 

Will’s smile and his relaxed, friendly demeanour instantly welcome and connect us to the land we’re standing on. The bluebell flowers; the mother sheep with their new spring lambs grazing next to a big oak tree; and Ardkinglas House, completed in 1907, framed against the Loch. We’ve really landed in a spectacular part of the wild Scottish countryside. 

Food photographer’s dream light

We walk with Will over to the estate house where he shows the kitchen of the grand old house. It’s made up of two main rooms with floor-to-ceiling white subway tiles and old, ceramic bath-sized sinks. A big, black stove is surrounded by many beautifully patinaed wooden prep tables, all gently blessed with soft light coming through big old sash windows. It’s like the photography studio of my dreams. 

We discuss the plan of action for the afternoon and I have to concentrate to hear Will over my own thoughts of the photos I could shoot, just in this kitchen. But the plan comes together. We head to Inveraray, in Wills slightly rattly Land Rover, to be tourists for a couple of hours. We enter the Loch Fyne Whisky Shop through a red doorway that forces even vertically challenged me to duck my head. The low-ceilinged room full of whisky bottles instantly makes me feel warm and welcome but also acutely aware of my lack of knowledge about whisky. We try a 13-year-old Glentauchers Single Malt Scotch that surprises me with an initial taste of sweet red fruit followed by a strong spirit aftertaste. I buy a bottle for a post dinner tipple. 

Wild herb foraging

We head back to the estate where Will starts our foraging tour. He introduces us first to sweet cicely – the flowers and leaves are edible, with a sweet aniseed taste (unlike poison hemlock, which looks similar but is toxic and will quickly kill you). 

We head for the old poly tents where we collect some mint and white goosefoot, which is quite similar to the Australian saltbush in appearance, the leaves having wax-like crystals that repel water. Will tells us of big plans for the polytunnel gardens this year, where his girlfriend will be taking the lead in the coming months. We leave the tunnels for a quick look at the old glass greenhouses, where the Wild Kabn Kitchen looks forward to entertaining guests in the near future. They’re home to a large grapevine and a big fig tree.

We walk up the road in dappled sunlight made by a tunnel of trees and arrive at a bridge over a small gorge. Looking down over the edge, Will spots the young wild garlic flower buds he wants, a day or two behind the flowers that get more sunlight and just ahead of those not yet blooming in a darker part of the valley. We work our way down to the river where Will also collects some of the smaller, younger wild garlic leaves that have a milder taste compared to the potent larger ones. Will climbs under the bridge and I meet him next to some gentle yellow primroses. Primroses were everywhere during my childhood in South Devon but I’m surprised to learn the flowers and leaves are edible. The taste of the flower reminds me of a floral Riesling. 

We meet Charlie, the Kabn Company side of the partnership, back at the edge of the Loch and he shows us to our home for the night. It’s one of two beautifully-designed timber cabins clad with larch preserved using the Japanese charring technique of shou sugi ban, where the surface of the timber is singed, sealing it from the elements. The interior is all joined timber, with a wood burner and a small but well-equipped kitchen. The bedroom has a cosy nook for the bed and a high-end ensuite.

Loch side wild kitchen

I head down onto the pebbly beach, scattered with smooth driftwood, to see how Will is getting on with dinner prep. I find him chopping wood and getting the fire going. He’s chosen a sheltered little bay, protected from the wind that’s creating white horses further out on the Loch. The tide is ebbing and uncovering bladderwrack–covered rocks and once the fire is roaring away we have time to forage for mussels. At first I only see a couple, but lifting the seaweed uncovers an abundance of these indigo Loch Fyne beauties. Will collects them into an old enamel wash bowl and cleans the beards and barnacles off on the edge of the shore. 

Back at our wild fire kitchen there’s a whole cauliflower with lemon, olive oil and sea salt in a small cast iron frying pan literally in the middle of the fire, surrounded by flaming logs. With the cauliflower charring away, Will starts on a famed Scottish soup, poetically named ‘cullen skink’. He places a big cast iron cook pot on a solid steel frame over the fire and adds butter, onion, garlic and potato to saute. Charlie now pours us a glass of Picpoul De Pinet Maison Azan – an organic white wine from Languedoc in France. It’s just in time to pair with the charred cauliflower on a good swirl of salted yoghurt, lemon butter, wild garlic-infused olive oil, roasted hazelnuts and the foraged wild garlic flowers and primrose flowers. 

After I photograph the dish in a few scenarios and from different angles we quickly go at it with forks, all eating from the same plate it’s served on. The cauliflower is cooked to perfection and we can effortlessly slice through the centre with our forks. It doesn’t last long as the flavours of the fire and foraged ingredients combine perfectly. Between forkfuls I steal chances to photograph the preparation and cooking of the soup, made with trout, smoked haddock, milk and wild herbs. Will spoons the rustic, chunky soup into floral bowls and places wildflowers on top, including the wild garlic flower buds, and a squeeze of lemon. 

This dish really seems to land me in this place – sitting on a rock looking over a glowing fire at a windy moody grey-blue Loch, enjoying a multitude of flavours in a warming soup with a delicate glass of white wine. 

Will starts the final course by placing a large, rectangular cooking plate on legs over the fire and letting it heat up. He adds a bar of butter that creates an impressive plume of steam, obscuring him from my camera. On go the mussels revealing their dark orange flesh in an explosion of fire. The flavours of lemon, garlic, chilli and fennel are added. When they’re nearly done, Will pours on a generous glug of red wine and then serves up with a drizzle of olive oil and mint for a Moroccan twist. We all stand around together talking and enjoying this incredible dish with a glass of Vignamaggio Chianti  Classico Terre Di Prenzano red wine from Tuscany.

Bush TV and dreaming

We build the fire up with driftwood. I set up the camera for a group shot of us all with the fire and one of the cabins in the background. After we all sit down around the fire and talk about our aspirations and dreams into the night. It’s an atmosphere of shared passions and connection through food, fire and fresh air, and our friendship is sealed. 

It’s pretty hard to leave the next morning as there’s so much more potential for beautiful photography in and around the main house as well as in the local area – so many other food, people and landscape photography stories to capture. I’d love to come back and explore the mountains and try some other restaurants, like Inver, which is only 20 mins from the cabins and, according to Will, is probably the number one restaurant in Scotland at the moment. 

As we leave I shake Charlie and Will’s hands several times in gratitude for the welcome they’ve given us and in praise of what they are doing. It feels like we’ve been friends for ages. It’s pretty rare to meet people who are as passionate about food and the outdoors as I am. I’m sure our paths will cross again.