Mock-a-Leekie Soup

In years gone by, I used to celebrate Burns Night with friends, and raucous, unwieldy enthusiasm. I have no Scottish heritage (that I know of, and I did look desperately hard through my family tree willing it to be so), simply a love of poetry and hearty dinners. January is often the coldest month of the year, so what better excuse to eat soup and read aloud odes to lairds and lassies with some of my favourite people? It’s a tradition I lost when I fell into poverty – not that chicken stock