In survival training I’ve eaten rattlesnake, turtle, turtle eggs, prickly pear cactus, skate, honeycomb with bee larvae inside. I don’t know if I ever would be hungry enough to choke down even a small bite of haggis.
Haggis is the reason that the Scots were forced to invent fine single malt Scotch.
It is the only thing that allows you to choke down the Haggis. (I was going to say “that makes Haggis edible,” but that would have been a gross overstatement.)
Suas Alba agus Alba gu Bràth!
THings are “Scottish”,
People are “Scots”,
and the drink is WHISKY,
without the ‘E”
Clan Ramsay traces back to 1313.
If only he had been vaccinated...
Went to a Burns supper years ago back when Kearny, NJ was still mostly a Scottish / Irish town. Good food (yes I even liked the haggis), good fun.
Haggis….the reason to consume lots of Scotch
When the haggis is set down, Robert Burns' poem "Address to a Haggis" is read--usually by a native Scotsman, as it would not sound very authentic if read in a California accent by someone like myself. Translations of the poem into modern English are usually included in the program handed to each guest.
In the past, this was followed by a "toast to the lassies" by the men, who after the toast, would sing Burns' 1783 poem "Green Grow the Rashes," which contains the line,
The sweetest hours that e'er I spend,Then the ladies would rise and drink a "toast to the laddies."
Are spent amang the lasses,
This was followed by a toast to the queen of Scotland (Elizabeth I at the time) and then the president of the US. However, this practice was discontinued during Bush 43's presidency after the group's leadership shifted leftwards. I believe the toast to the lassies and laddies has also been discontinued.
After the ceremony, the guests would eat dinner, and everyone got to eat some of the haggis. After dinner, the Scottish country dancing began. The dances at thes events are chosen in advance and usually include one entitled "Burns Night" and also "The Lee Rig," which is inspired by a Burns poem.
However, I discontinued my involvement in this group after 2020, as they now demand that you show proof of having been "vaccinated" to attend any of their events.
I have a little Scots-Irish ancestry on my mother’s side and have been to the area in Scotland where the family originated (we don’t know the exact parish because the early parish records are very incomplete). Managed to spend several days in Scotland without eating haggis.
ADDRESS TO A HAGGIS
—Robert Burns, 1786
Fair fa’ your honest, sonsie face,
Great chieftain o’ the pudding-race!
Aboon them a’ ye tak your place,
Painch, tripe, or thairm :
Weel are ye wordy o’a grace
As lang’s my arm.
The groaning trencher there ye fill,
Your hurdies like a distant hill,
Your pin wad help to mend a mill
In time o’need,
While thro’ your pores the dews distil
Like amber bead.
His knife see rustic Labour dight,
An’ cut you up wi’ ready sleight,
Trenching your gushing entrails bright,
Like ony ditch;
And then, O what a glorious sight,
Warm-reekin’, rich!
Then, horn for horn, they stretch an’ strive:
Deil tak the hindmost! on they drive,
Till a’ their weel-swall’d kytes belyve
Are bent like drums;
Then auld Guidman, maist like to rive,
Bethankit! hums.
Is there that owre his French ragout
Or olio that wad staw a sow,
Or fricassee wad make her spew
Wi’ perfect sconner,
Looks down wi’ sneering, scornfu’ view
On sic a dinner?
Poor devil! see him owre his trash,
As feckless as wither’d rash,
His spindle shank, a guid whip-lash;
His nieve a nit;
Thro’ bloody flood or field to dash,
O how unfit!
But mark the Rustic, haggis-fed,
The trembling earth resounds his tread.
Clap in his walie nieve a blade,
He’ll mak it whissle;
An’ legs an’ arms, an’ heads will sned,
Like taps o’ thrissle.
Ye Pow’rs, wha mak mankind your care,
And dish them out their bill o’ fare,
Auld Scotland wants nae skinking ware
That jaups in luggies;
But, if ye wish her gratefu’ prayer
Gie her a haggis!
What is Scotland’s gross domestic product? Haggis
I tried Haggis. It tasted offal!
Ping!.................