Long before anyone in Scotland ever poured batter over a sausage, the wealth of a Highland family wasn’t counted in coin. It was counted in coos.
That’s not a figure of speech. In Gaelic, the word for cattle, crodh, sits right beside croiche, the word for wealth — a language telling you plainly what mattered. A man’s standing in his clan could rise or fall on the size of his fold, and losing cattle to a rival clan’s raiding party wasn’t an inconvenience, it was a genuine crisis. Highland cattle, with their shaggy double coats and improbable horns, have been part of this landscape since at least the 6th century, bred hardy enough to winter on windswept moor and thin grazing that would finish off almost any other breed.
Long before anyone in Scotland ever poured batter over a sausage, the wealth of a Highland family wasn’t counted in coin. It was counted in coos.
That’s not a figure of speech. In Gaelic, the word for cattle, crodh, sits right beside croiche, the word for wealth — a language telling you plainly what mattered. A man’s standing in his clan could rise or fall on the size of his fold, and losing cattle to a rival clan’s raiding party wasn’t an inconvenience, it was a genuine crisis. Highland cattle, with their shaggy double coats and improbable horns, have been part of this landscape since at least the 6th century, bred hardy enough to winter on windswept moor and thin grazing that would finish off almost any other breed.
Every autumn, drovers walked these cattle hundreds of miles from the glens down to the great trysts at Falkirk and Crieff, moving them along ancient routes with names still stitched into the map — places like Trà igh nam Bò, “the beach of the cows,” where herds rested on the west coast before the long inland push to market. It was slow, dangerous, unglamorous work, and it built the backbone of the rural Highland economy for centuries. When you spot a Highland coo today, dozing by a dry-stone wall with the midges not bothering it in the slightest, you’re looking at the living end of that story.
So where does toad in the hole come in? Honestly — not from Scotland at all. It’s an English dish through and through, first written down in the 1780s and popularised nationally by Mrs Beeton in 1861: sausages baked into a Yorkshire pudding batter, born out of the same frugal instinct that built the droving trade — stretch a little meat a long way and waste nothing. The “toad” in the name almost certainly comes from the sausages peeking out of the batter the way a toad peers out from its burrow, though nobody can agree on that, and a Northumberland golf-course legend involving an irate toad and a lost ball gets trotted out just as often. Either way, no toads have ever been involved in the making of it.
What Scotland did contribute, and generously, is the beef behind the bangers. Scottish beef — much of it still descended from those same hardy Highland herds — has a reputation that travels well beyond the glens, and a proper butcher’s sausage made from it turns this humble English bake into something worth putting on a Scottish table. Think of it less as a Scottish dish wearing a disguise, and more as an English classic finished with a Highland accent.
A Better Toad in the Hole
The usual version disappoints for one reason: a batter that never quite rises, leaving you with soggy sausages sitting in wet pancake. The fixes are simple — rest the batter, get the fat properly smoking hot before the batter goes anywhere near it, and don’t crowd the tin.
Serves 4
Ingredients
- 8 Scottish beef sausages or good-quality pork
- 140g (1 cup) plain flour
- 4 large eggs
- 300ml (1¼ cups) whole milk
- Pinch of salt and black pepper
- 3 tablespoons beef dripping, duck fat, or vegetable oil
- 1 teaspoon English mustard (optional, for the batter)
- For the onion gravy: 2 onions, sliced; 1 tablespoon butter; 1 tablespoon flour; 300ml beef stock; splash of Worcestershire sauce
Method
- Whisk the flour, eggs, milk, mustard, salt and pepper into a smooth, thin batter. Let it rest at room temperature for at least 30 minutes — this is the step most recipes skip, and it’s the one that makes the batter rise properly.
- Preheat the oven to 220°C (425°F) — hotter than you think you need.
- Put the fat into a 9×13 inch metal baking tin or roasting tray and place it in the oven for 8–10 minutes, until it’s smoking hot. This is non-negotiable; a lukewarm tin gives you a flat, greasy bake instead of a puffed one.
- While the fat heats, brown the sausages in a frying pan for 3–4 minutes, turning once — you’re not cooking them through, just building colour and flavour.
- Carefully remove the tin from the oven, arrange the sausages in it, and immediately pour in the batter. Work quickly; the fat needs to stay hot.
- Return to the oven at once and bake for 25–30 minutes without opening the door. The batter will puff dramatically around the sausages and turn deep golden brown.
- While it bakes, make the gravy: soften the onions in butter over low heat for 15 minutes until sweet and golden, stir in the flour, then gradually whisk in the stock and Worcestershire sauce. Simmer until glossy.
- Serve the toad in the hole straight from the oven, cut into squares, with the onion gravy poured over and mashed potatoes or seasonal greens alongside.
Notes: Look for sausages from a Scottish butcher where you can — the higher meat content holds its shape better under the batter and doesn’t leach fat the way a cheap sausage will. If you can only find a smaller tin, use it; a deeper batter layer actually rises better than a thin one spread across too wide a dish.
“A man’s wealth wasn’t counted in coin in the glens — it was counted in coos.”
Next time you’re driving through the Highlands and a shaggy red coo lifts its head to watch you pass, you’ll know you’re looking at more than a good photograph. You’re looking at centuries of Scottish survival, wrapped in a very good coat — and, if you’re lucky, the ancestor of tonight’s sausages too.
Miller begins by discussing the history of cattle in Scotland. He explains that cattle were once a precious commodity in Scotland and that they were often used as a symbol of wealth and status.
Miller then goes on to discuss the origins of Toad in the Hole. He explains that the dish is thought to have originated as a way to use up leftover meat. The sausages would be baked in a batter and the batter would help to keep the sausages moist and flavorful.
Miller then shares a recipe for a traditional 19th century Toad in the Hole. The recipe is simple but it produces a delicious and hearty dish.
Toad in the Hole is a classic British dish that is sure to please everyone. It is easy to make and it is perfect for a family meal.
Here is the recipe that Max Miller shared in the video:
Ingredients:
- 1 pound sausages
- 1 cup all-purpose flour
- 2 eggs
- 1 cup milk
- 1 teaspoon salt
- 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
- 1 tablespoon vegetable oil
Instructions:
- Preheat oven to 400 degrees F (200 degrees C).
- Grease a 9×13 inch baking dish.
- In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, eggs, milk, salt and pepper.
- Add the sausages to the batter and mix until well combined.
- Pour the batter into the prepared baking dish.
- Bake in the preheated oven for 30-35 minutes or until the batter is golden brown and the sausages are cooked through.
- Serve immediately.
Enjoy!
Ready to experience this yourself?
Secure Your Dream Scottish Experience Before It’s Gone!
Planning a trip to Scotland? Don’t let sold-out tours or packed attractions dampen your adventure. Iconic experiences like exploring Edinburgh Castle, cruising along Loch Ness, or wandering through the mystical Isle of Skye often fill up fast—especially during peak travel seasons.
Booking in advance guarantees your place and ensures you can fully immerse yourself in the rich culture and breathtaking scenery without stress or disappointment. You’ll also free up time to explore Scotland's hidden gems and savour those authentic moments that make your trip truly special.
Make the most of your journey—start planning today and secure those must-do experiences before they’re gone!
***************************************************
DISCLAIMER Last updated May 29, 2023
WEBSITE DISCLAIMER
The information provided by Love to Visit LLC ('we', 'us', or 'our') on https:/loveotvisitscotland.com (the 'Site') is for general informational purposes only. All information on the Site is provided in good faith, however we make no representation or warranty of any kind, express or implied, regarding the accuracy, adequacy, validity, reliability, availability, or completeness of any information on the Site.
UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCE SHALL WE HAVE ANY LIABILITY TO YOU FOR ANY LOSS OR DAMAGE OF ANY KIND INCURRED AS A RESULT OF THE USE OF THE SITE OR RELIANCE ON ANY INFORMATION PROVIDED ON THE SITE. YOUR USE OF THE SITE AND YOUR RELIANCE ON ANY INFORMATION ON THE SITE IS SOLELY AT YOUR OWN RISK.
EXTERNAL LINKS DISCLAIMER
The Site may contain (or you may be sent through the Site) links to other websites or content belonging to or originating from third parties or links to websites and features in banners or other advertising. Such external links are not investigated, monitored, or checked for accuracy, adequacy, validity, reliability, availability, or completeness by us.
WE DO NOT WARRANT, ENDORSE, GUARANTEE, OR ASSUME RESPONSIBILITY FOR THE ACCURACY OR RELIABILITY OF ANY INFORMATION OFFERED BY THIRD-PARTY WEBSITES LINKED THROUGH THE SITE OR ANY WEBSITE OR FEATURE LINKED IN ANY BANNER OR OTHER ADVERTISING. WE WILL NOT BE A PARTY TO OR IN ANY WAY BE RESPONSIBLE FOR MONITORING ANY TRANSACTION BETWEEN YOU AND THIRD-PARTY PROVIDERS OF PRODUCTS OR SERVICES.
AFFILIATES DISCLAIMER The Site may contain links to affiliate websites, and we receive an affiliate commission for any purchases made by you on the affiliate website using such links. Our affiliates include the following:
- Viator
We are a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program, an affiliate advertising program designed to provide a means for us to earn advertising fees by linking to Amazon.com and affiliated websites.
