T his is probably the fault of Hollywood movie directors, but these days when we think of feasting our imagination tends to become flooded with clichés of debauched Vikings quaffing mead, or Henry VIII hunched over venison haunches, tossing bones over his shoulder for the minions to sweep away. But the feast has always been much more refined than our stereotype of disreputable Rabelaisian excess. We now know that the king’s banquets were subtle affairs, where lobster and porpoise, swan and syllabubs were served. Henry loved apricots and artichokes and employed French gardeners to tend his salad nurseries. Shakespeare’s plays are full of food and drink, with the Scottish tragedy Macbeth giving us the expression to be ‘eaten out of house and home’, while in Henry V we’re advised that ‘good wine is a good familiar creature’. And the Bible is stuffed with feasts. The Last Supper may have been a simple meal of bread and wine, but it was profound in symbolism and immortalised in Leonardo da Vinci’s famous depiction of the event. Indeed, for as long as humanity has been documented, people coming together for communal meals has been celebrated in art and literature, with such occasions serving to mark both significant dates and memorable moments in time. From birthday parties and weddings to family gatherings and cultural holidays, the traditional climax of any get-together will be the serving of food and wine. This serving of alcohol is vital, not just because it raises the informality of conversation, but because it is literally the lubrication for the toast, where all gathered raise their glasses to agree on life’s essentials, such as the desire for health and happiness, or to acknowledge that the person being toasted is (or was) a jolly good fellow. While in Russia it is a breach of etiquette to drink alcohol without toasting something, the British don’t feel involved in a toast unless there is a glass of champagne to hand. And with toasts come speeches, which further elevate the sense of occasion and community. Clearly it is the combination of food and people that creates the atmosphere of conviviality. Feasting has always been an important thread woven through the fabric of daily life at Skibo. Andrew Carnegie’s wife, Louise, played a central role in the planning and staging of Skibo’s famous house parties. In a biography published in the 1950s, we are told that the ‘number – 27 – T H E C A R N E G I E C L U B F OOD, GL ORIOUS F OOD Feasting is about so much more than simply eating and drinking, it’s the communion of people that makes such occasions so special WORDS Nick Smith PHOTOGRAPHY Helen Cathcart