Ah, Scotland. I am three-parts Scottish and terribly proud of it, although maybe we should divide it into eighths, because my two-eighths are Danish and English, the Lumley part. But the bulk of the rest of me is Scottish - and Scottish ministers especially.

I am mean as cats' meat about handbags: mine don't ever look chic. I always prefer bags that aren't made of leather.

I think most of the world would like to be Scottish. All the Americans who come here never look for English blood or Welsh, only for Scottish and Irish. It's understandable. The Scots effectively created the face of the modern world: the railways, the bridges, the tunnels.

I am Scottish. I am also British.

I am proud to be a Richie.

I'm not terribly good at three-page recipes - I tend to skip bits - or anything that involves marinating things in juniper berries.