It’s Tartan Week in New York, and the weather couldn’t be more cooperative: It’s 40, gray and damp, and so foggy that ol’ Nessie could swim 10 feet from you and you might not see her.

As the celebration is based in Grand Central and this very blog takes its name from a beloved Scottish novel, we of course are all over Tartan Week like Sean Connery on an endorsement opportunity.

As we passed through Grand Central this morning, the exhibits were set up in Vanderbilt Hall, near the front doors, ready to open at 11. A blackboard detailed the day’s events, including this eye-popper: Glenfiddich Cooperage Demo at 5:30. Really, is there a better way to pour yourself into your evening commute than to sip a little nectar of the Scottish Highlands?

I asked a couple security guards, who didn’t seem a whit Scottish, for details. “You gotta aks (yes, he said “aks”) Fiona over there,” one said.

So I approached Fiona, who told me it was a demonstration on barrel-making, and there would be no whiskey for interested parties to sip. “There’ll be some haggis, though!” Fiona chirped.

While I’ll have to explore a bit when the faux Scottish village opens later today, at first blush, the whole thing feels like a mere marketing opportunity for Scottish airlines, hotels and specialty foods. (Oof course, it’s up to you to decide how “specialty” oatmeal in a sheep’s stomach really is).