The captain stood in a dripping wet, faded yellow PVC coat and fishing pants, shouting at us through tumultuous wind and sleet on the dock of Iona, an island in the Inner Hebrides off the Western coast of Scotland.

“Please be aware that these seas are choppy and unpredictable! We were out just this morning, and the waves were rough. The currents change quickly and I’m not even sure we’ll be able to dock when we get out to the Isle of Staffa.” His voice lowered with doom, “Fingal’s Cave isn’t always welcoming, and the cliffs above it are wet and steep. If you experience motion sickness or have trouble walking, this isn’t the voyage for you!” Gut-shaking claps of thunder highlighted the captain’s warning and the white-capped sea agreed.

My ribcage expanded like Superman’s with undaunted maritime bravery. I was not afraid. I felt this inner confidence, not because I’m some intrepid thrill seeker always looking to put adventure before safety, but because I’m lying. Well, partially lying anyway.

It was a glorious day in Iona. The sky was baby blue with high, wispy clouds and the sea rolled with a welcoming splish-splashy surf. There was a tickle of a breeze in the air that tasted like salt and luscious sprouting Scottish springtime.

The captain’s intense warnings, however, were not my embellishment. He bellowed one dangerous possibility after the next as if our lives were at high risk. Now I’m not saying that this 40-minute boat ride between Iona and Staffa isn’t sometimes dangerous– it’s not a jaunt that’s offered year-round because of Scotland’s unpredictably rough seas– but the overacting of the captain on this beautiful day stood out like an old barnacle. Is it possible that the tour group we were with found the guests enjoyed their trip a lot more when this most spectacular part was seasoned with an extra bit of danger? Bravo, I say.

That morning, there had been a suspiciously performative phone call from Cameron, our tour guide, to the captain’s assistant shared loudly over speakerphone.

“Does the captain think the sea is safe to sail today?” He turned back to us in the coach so we could see his over-animated face.

“Yes, hallo Cameron!” she replied, clearly expecting the call. “The wind is up but the tide is down. We were able to dock this morning! We’ll see if we’re as lucky this afternoon! You just never know.”

Cameron’s eyes were twinkling, “And were there any puffins to be found?”

Every tourist on the bus sat upright and wide-eyed waiting for her response. At this point, puffins were more important than all the glorious valleys, glistening waters, and endless tortured histories of the Scots that we’d been focused on for the past 2 days. No offense to the Scots, but we were pretty saturated by that point.

“Well, Cameron… we saw a couple. You’re expecting to arrive around 1:00, right? I sure hope we’ll be able to find a few puffins. I think we will, but you never know where they’ll be.”

We cheered and fretted simultaneously.

While the cynical New Yorker in me rolled my eyes at the theatrics, the elated 7-year-old in me bought them hook, line, and sinker. My knowledge of captains is limited to Ahab, Nero, and Crunch so I will always remember the skipper as a gnarly old seafarer with a scowl and a pipe even though he was an average-looking guy in his 40s with a worthy boat and a summer job.

We were given 45 minutes to walk around Iona and decide if we were up for the life risk/ puke possibility of this trip. A couple of people dropped out immediately. I used to pretend that I suffered from intense motion sickness to get out of doing my homework on long drives, but I have a stomach of steel. Francis and I were first in line to get on that boat.

“I can’t wait to see the puffins!” I whispered to him after we boarded the vessel.

“If we’re even able to dock!” Francis replied, eyebrows knit, head shaking. He was not as skeptical of the captain’s warnings. This was Francis’ third day abroad and he was struggling with jet lag and a bit of a cold. I looked at him and started to believe we might not be able to get off at Staffa. No puffins!?! How would we survive? All vacations have pockets where you have time to review your life choices unfavorably. I’ve found these pockets are often right before something magnificent happens and last about 40 minutes. This boat ride was a prime vacay pocket opportunity and we both were spinning downward. We looked at the water vacantly. Until…

Staffa is an island created by volcanic rock. When you see it first from a distance it seems as if something has been pushed up from the sea. When it formed, the lava cooled into hexagonal basalt columns so the sides of the island are like geological buttresses. Not exactly a welcoming beach! It is breathtaking.

There is a little pathway on wet rocks from the small docking area (we did manage to dock without issue) to a long and narrow metal stairway that leads to the grassy flat top of Staffa. This was when I realized the warnings were valid, as it would have been easy to lose balance on this tiny staircase. My legs were shaking when we got to the top.

Now, to find those puffins! I was on a mission as were many people in our group who were making plans – left or right, this trail or that path? I don’t think anyone from the boat had come up with us and we were just guessing which way to go.

Francis walked for about 5 minutes and then lay down on a grassy field overlooking the sea.

“I just need to rest for a bit. I’ll be fine. You go on.”

I nodded, patted his shoulders for love, and continued my puffin search.

Not even 30 steps later, over a little dune, I saw one. And then another. They were EVERYWHERE. They’re not like other birds. And they are so full of goofy joy.

I was giggling and squealing and snapping pics.

I ran back, “Honey, get up!”

“I just want to rest a bit longer.”

I knelt down next to him and whispered, pointing over the dune, “They’re RIGHT THERE.”

One of the best things about being married is seeing someone you love witness something incredible for the first time. It. Is. Magic.

I never wanted to leave those puffins. Or the island of Staffa. Or those views.

So thank you Scotland for being so breathtakingly gorgeous and the Scots for being so strong and the puffins for being so playful and the tour/captain for the adventure and my mum who generously gifted us this incredible trip (and is out of the hospital and back home now -YAY).

I am different having been to Scotland. I am better for it.

Though many of our meals in Scotland were forgettable, we had a lovely meal in the little hotel in Tobermory where we were staying. I had a Caesar salad with seared scallops and Francis had a lovely piece of salmon with some little fritters. Those fritters ruminated in my mind until I was back in the kitchen eager to cook again.

I’m starting this recipe with my fennel pepper recipe, which is a secret ingredient in a lot of things I cook. I rub it on fish before I sear it or chicken before I barbecue or roast vegetables or popcorn or into marinara sauce for an invisible flavor game change. It does not contain salt so you can adjust the salt level for the food you’re cooking.

Secret bonus recipe:

Fennel Pepper

Ingredients

• 2 tablespoons fennel seeds
• 1 tablespoon coriander seeds
• 1 tablespoon black peppercorns

1. Put the ingredients into a spice blender and grind for 30 seconds.

Leek and Vegetable Fritters with Lemon Fennel Cream

Makes about 16 fritters

Ingredients for Fritters

• ½ pound leeks (you’re looking for 3 cups of the white and light green parts, chopped)
• 1 carrot peeled
• 1 zucchini
• 1 egg
• 1/3 cup unbleached flour
• 1 teaspoon baking powder
• 1 teaspoon ground fennel (or 1 1/2  teaspoons fennel pepper if you’ve made it)
• 1/2 teaspoon ground pepper (don’t add this if you have fennel pepper)
• ½ teaspoon pepper
• ½ teaspoon salt
• Vegetable oil for frying

1. Boil 2 quarts of salted water.
2. Trim the dark green tops off the leeks and slice the white in half lengthwise. Then slice those halves again to make 4 long lengths per leek. Line the leek lengths up on your cutting board and slice into thin quarter circles.
3. Turn off the heat on the water and add the leeks. Let them blanch in the hot water for 3 minutes. Drain into a dishtowel-lined colander and ring out to remove any excess water from the leeks.
4. Grate the carrots and the zucchini.
5. In a dry bowl, combine the egg, flour, baking powder, fennel, pepper, and salt to make a light batter. Stir in the leeks, carrots, and zucchini. Mix thoroughly.
6. Heat fry oil in a medium-sized fry pan until it’s 350 degrees.
7. Drop mounds of fritter batter (about 2 tablespoons worth) into the hot oil and flatten gently. Cook for about 2 minutes and then flip and cook on the other side for about 2 minutes.
8. Drain on paper towels.

Lemon Fennel Cream

• ½ cup sour cream
• ½ teaspoon lemon zest
• 1 teaspoon lemon juice
• 2 teaspoons ground fennel (or 3 teaspoons fennel pepper if you’ve made it)
• ¾ teaspoon ground pepper (don’t add this if you have fennel pepper)
• Salt to taste

1. Place the sour cream in a bowl and stir in lemon zest and juice. Stir in fennel, pepper, and salt to taste.
2. Dollop onto fritters and enjoy

Here is a clip of me making these fritters on KATU’s show Afternoon Live (just click on the picture)