Woke this morning and turned out my Summer Pudding (made yesterday) from Blackberries.
I drizzled mine with double cream...but I can see where fresh berries to garnish, a bit of whipped cream and a sprig of mint would make the presentation quite guest worthy. This recipe is definitely here to stay and serve. Very light sweet berry dessert. Delicious. I could see trying this substituting the day old bread for sliced butter poundcake...or filling the inside with good whipped cream.
Anyway...researched Robert Burns a bit. Read his Address To A Haggis. Seemed appropriate.
http://www.robertburns.org/
For some of his other poetry.
Address to a Haggis
Fair fa' your honest, sonsie face,
Great Chieftain o’ the Puddin-race!
Aboon them a' ye tak your place,
Painch, tripe, or thairm:
Weel are ye wordy of 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 ye up wi’ ready slight,
Trenching your gushing entrails bright,
Like onie 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 mak 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 a wither'd rash,
His spindle shank a guid whip-lash,
His nieve a nit;
Thro’ bluidy 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 make 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!
And then set about making my Traditional Robbie Burns Dinner (generally held on January 25th- Burns' birthday- in Scotland)
Haggis, Tatties and Neeps
The tin of Haggis, when opened, looked (and smelled) a lot like that taste treat we fed our dachshunds back in the 1960's.
I popped it in the pot to simmer, anyway.
and then I watched THIS
https://youtu.be/k07zCHODCkY
Trust me...you do not want to see Haggis traditionally made...especially when you are an hour or so away from trying it yourself.
With the Tatties (Mashed Potatoes) done...I set my sights on "The Neeps"
Traditional "Neeps" aren't made from Turnips, but from a rugged, purplish vegetable with bunion-type afflictions at both ends and yellowish flesh called a "Swede". Peeled and cubed and popped in a salted pot to boil. The smell is a cross somewhere between cooked cabbage, turnips and rutabaga.
Yeah...my neighbours love me, tonight.
Finally the moment of truth arrived. Put this on to set the mood.
The Traditional Piping In of the Haggis
https://youtu.be/_2WkXdtNYu4
And fixed my plate:
"Haggis, Tatties and Neeps"
Overall, it wasn't bad. Okay, it wasn't really good either. I can see where a shot of 25 year old single malt Scotch on hand (or maybe several) could improve the whole experience.
The "Neeps" were tastier with a sprinkle of nutmeg (a suggestion from my friend Marti who had tried the whole business before)
The Haggis was quite like meatloaf if you had made it with Liver, Onions and Oats. And the smell was still definitely reminiscent of Ken.L Ration. Probably because it was made of basically some of the same stuff.
The Tatties saved dinner for me...and I did quickly find the combination of all three on the same fork as a bite was much, much, much better.
Although I don't foresee ever doing it again...I have tried Haggis.
Go me!
Broke out a bit of The Scottish Butter Tablet for afters
And it was WONDERFUL!
A cross between butterscotch and fudge with the consistency of maple sugar candy. Extremely sweet and a tiny bit is dessert.
Tucker...on the other hand...might be Scottish (maybe I should re-name him McTucker) He LOVED the leftover Haggis. Filled his dish, and he ate every morsel!
Finishing Scotland tomorrow with a look at St. Andrew...pouring off my Stout to a carboy to start fermentation and wandering through the ruins of St. Andrew's Cathedral in Fife.
See you then...