"Good morning, listeners. Today, in our 'Comforts of the Empire' segment, we take you to the Northern Highlands. A lesson in fortitude... and oats." Aye, come in, come in. Close the door against the chill. The radio man speaks of "fortitude," does he? I speak of survival. You want to know the secret of the oats? You don't just boil them in water like a savage. Nay, nay. The work starts when the moon is high. You take the oats, and you drown them in milk. Put them in the cold—keep them shivering in the dark. Let them fatten up overnight. Let them drink the white until they are bursting with strength. Now, when the sun barely touches the hills... You cook them. Slow. In hot milk, lads. Never water. Water is for washing your face, not for feeding your blood. Add the cream. Thick, heavy cream. We are building a wall here. We are forging hot armour for the belly. And here is the trick of the trade: A pinch of sea salt in the milk before the sweet. Just a pinch. To remind you of the sea. It’s not just a bowl, it’s a shield of grain. To keep out the cold, to keep out the rain. Thick as mud and gold as the sun. The battle is fought before the day’s begun. Hot armour, lads. Hot armour. Now... for the finishing touch. You’ll want honey... The real stuff, from the comb... None of that fake syrup rubbish. But... if the day is looking particularly dark... If the frost is biting at your bones... A wee dram... A drop of whisky, a splash at the most... Stir it in while it steams. Just for the warmth, aye? Just to keep the spirits high. Work the oats. Stir the pot. Until the spoon stands up on its own. Until it’s heavy. Until it’s ready to fight. Eat up. It’s a long road ahead. Get that armour inside you. Carry on, lads, carry on. Aye... Carry on.
