Burns Night

A lot has been written about Robert Burns, Burns Night and the tradition of Burns Supper.  The great man has been dead for over 250 years.  His birthday has been marked for many of those years and a strong tradition has been built up around the 25th January.  If you would like to know more then the internet is indeed your oyster, this blog isn't the place to be.  I know not one poem or ode from start to finish.  I can't tell you where Rabbie was born or where he died but I do know how to mark tradition.

That said, I was not raised with this as a traditional meal.  My parents moved from Edinburgh on their Honeymoon.  Their destination was Dudley in The Black Country as my Dad had just landed a plum new job.  I can only assume that Haggis wasn't readily available in the 70's in England which is why I missed out for so many years.

I have now been to my fair share of Burns Suppers.  Dinner parties at University, house parties with stovies* served after midnight and everything in-between.  The grandest affair was in the Officers Mess at Woolwich.  It was the last time that Burns Night would be celebrated there as merging battalions meant that Woolwich was being sold off.  All of the regimental silver was out for the occasion, along with so many polished buttons that the chandeliers were jealous.

I'm on record as preferring my haggis, tatties and neeps unadulterated, no sauces, no garnishes, no flair.  The army didn't agree with me on this one.  Dainty pastry baskets held the neatly turned scoop of haggis.  The tatties and neeps where not mashed.  The thing that really stood out was the speech.  I don't know if you have sat through a poor after dinner speech, if you have I bet this one was worse.  It was not the poor attempt at a Scottish accent, nor was it the off taste "blue" jokes.  The problem was the amount of alcohol that had been consumed prior to the speech starting.  Lets just say that the laughs dried up long before the port did.

Tonight we have been a lot more traditional, no airs and graces, no wall to wall silver and no speeches.  The meal has been served in just as I like it and, for the record, this is the third time we have had haggis this year.  It just goes to show that haggis is for life, not just for Burns Night.

Some hae meat and canna eat,
And some wad eat that want it;
But we hae meat, and we can eat,
And sae let the Lord be thankit.

*ask me about stovies another time.

Haggis Tatties and Neeps

This doesn't usually happen.  Highland Chicken normally follows a meal of Haggis, Tatties and Neeps as a use for the leftovers, but not this time.  Tonight we're having leftover leftovers.

Other than its unsettling ingredients, I think the other reason people don't cook haggis is the time it takes. A small haggis (enough for two to three people) takes a good hour and a half of simmering to cook.  The alternative is to remove the haggis from its casing and cook it in a dry pan.  This way it's done in 15 minutes and you can add some whisky as you go.

In my mind, there are not many dishes as comforting as this one.  Creamy mash, well peppered neeps and plenty of haggis are my favourite three piles of food that occur on the same plate at the same time.  There are no airs and graces, no garnish of parsley and no dragged quenelles of puree.  Just three steaming heaps of joy.

Highland Chicken

Although English by birth (Bolton to be precise), I consider myself to be 50/50 Scottish and Welsh by parentage.  A partridge hatched in a pear tree is still a partridge and not a pear.  I'll accept British, even European but never English.

Part of my proud heritage* is haggis.  I probably ate haggis long before I knew the grizzly truth behind the contents of a good beastie.  The same can be said for black pudding.  This is probably why I'm not in the slightest bit squeamish when it comes to offal and nose to tail eating.  If it tastes good, eat it (and if you are willing to eat a killed animal eat all of it).

The traditional haggis meal, cooked and served with neeps** and tatties, is only one way of dealing with a sheep's stomach filled with its lung, liver, heart and barley.  It is a fantastic ingredient.  Anywhere you serve black pudding you could easily substitute haggis.

I first had Highland Chicken at the Cramond Inn, Edinburgh, and have cooked it plenty of times since.  Chicken, I use boned thighs, is stuffed with haggis and wrapped in bacon.  The parcel is browned in a pan and then roasted until the chicken is cooked.  Serve with neeps and tatties if you like.  A whisky sauce also goes down well.

*Along with being rubbish at football.
**For the record, neeps are the vegetable that the Scots call turnip and the English call swede.  Swede is an abbreviated form of Swedish Turnip.  Both are correct, lets leave it there.