Great Scot — a triumph for Vettriano!

Every year the cream of Scotland comes to Boisdale of Belgravia to celebrate Scottish talent and to toast the winner of the Johnnie Walker Blue Label Great Scot award. Boisdale is quietly opulent. The mighty banqueting tables and blood-red walls decorated with country views suggest baronial splendour in a modern key. It’s Balmoral with central heating. Our host, Andrew Neil, began on a note of unapologetic patriotism. ‘Scotland invented the modern world,’ he said, and reeled off a list of his homeland’s greatest contributions to world culture. Tarmac, television and Tennent’s Super didn’t get a mention and instead he focused on ‘the decimal point, the cure for scurvy and the patron saint of Ireland, St Patrick. And let’s not forget,’ he added mischievously, ‘the love of the Queen Mother.’

Before the prizegiving came the haggis and whisky. Far off, we heard an eerie descant. A lone piper marched into the room accompanied by a waiter bearing aloft a nimbus of spiced offal that steamed and glinted on its silver platter. The haggis was moist, almost velvety in texture, and we devoured it with noggins of Johnnie Walker Black Label. With an expert distiller on hand to give advice we explored the blend’s numerous flavours. It was like a hallucinogenic chemistry lesson. ‘First take a massive, massive gulp,’ our teacher ordered bluntly, ‘and swirl it round for a good ten seconds to cleanse the palette and anaesthetise the mouth.’ It did that all right. He asked us ‘to look for the honey sweetness at the front’ and let the liquid ‘glide to the back of the throat’, and enjoy ‘the rich fruit’. A warm peppery softness filled my senses as it slid south.

More noggins came. More went. After the haggis we feasted on Aberdeenshire fillet of beef and liberal quantities of Château Laforge 2003. Last year’s winner, Sir Jackie Stewart, stood up to announce his successor, though not without casting a covetous glance at the prize itself, a £3,000 bottle of Johnny Walker Blue Label blended in single barrels. Jack Vettriano, the world-famous painter, accepted the award with undisguised glee. His first act as a Great Scot was to salute his fellow nominees Ian Rankin, Kirsty Young, Sharleen Spiteri and Scottish rugby ace Kenny Logan. ‘I can’t wait to show my dad this prize,’ said Vettriano. ‘He’ll say, “Aye son, that’s great, but if you’d stuck to engineering you’d have a senior position by now and a good pension to look forward to.”’ He told us he got a tremendous thrill from being Scottish and was proud of his achievements as a ‘wall decorator’.

He donated one of his ‘decorations’ to the auction which followed. His print went for six times as much as a rare Picasso lithograph. Numerous lots were sold in aid of Action Against Hunger, which helps thousands of underfed children around the world and is at the centre of the relief effort in Haiti. The lots kept selling and the refreshments kept coming. After hearing myself ask a waiter for ‘more Fateau Lachorge’, I raised a charitable paw only to discover that I’d bid £2,500 for a culinary tour of London’s Michelin-starred restaurants. Fortunately richer bidders stepped in and saved me from eviction.

The auction done, Reuben Richards and his Soul Train took the stage. As the air hummed with their jazz rhythms I rose and headed for the dance floor, only to find my ability to stand already in doubt. Outside, I fell into a taxi and reached home, grateful I still had one to go to.