Kail and Oaten Bread

I'm reading Children of the Abbey, an old Minerva Press novel from 1796. Our heroine, in the midst of her woes, has settled into a dejected cottage in Scotland, surrounded by thistles, rocks, and the stormy sea! She sups upon "a few heads of kail, some oaten bread, a jug of water, and a small phial half full of spirits," which just adds to her misery, but it sounds quite pleasant to me. I shall look out my window upon the dripping Idaho evening, and imagine I am in Scotland.