Haggis
The Source
It was probably the most expensive mouthful I ever swallowed. Every year on January 25th, our bagpipe group would travel to Peoria on Bobby Burns Day in celebration of the great Scottish poet Robert Burns. We’d order a “skin” of haggis (it’s cooked inside a sheep’s stomach) from Edinburgh, Scotland, have it flown to O’Hare, picked up in a van with a hot box, then delivered to our celebration still steaming from Scotland. Haggis runs around two bucks a serving on the streets of Edinburgh but when you eat it in Peoria the airfare is what causes the heartburn. We’d sit there with some two hundred kilted Peoria Scots, the bagpipes would whirl to life in the back of the hall, then enter the haggis. There are few sights to equal the specter of a 250-pound man in kilts carrying a steaming sheep’s tummy by your table accompanied by a dozen pipes and drummers. The master of ceremonies would stand before the heaving organ and intone: Some hae meat and canna eat, And some wad eat that want it, But we hae meat and we can eat, And sae the Lord be thankit. Then he would bring his silver sword crashing down through the bulging hide and the haggis would come spilling out to the applause of the bare-kneed appetites. We’d eagerly consume our portion of the haggis accompanied by the traditional side dishes of cock-a-leekie soup, neeps and tatties (bashit neeps: bashed turnips; champit tatties: mashed potatoes), Clootie Dumpling (a pudding prepared in a linen cloth or cloot), and Typsy Laird (sherry trifle). Those who could still sit upright then nibbled on bannocks (oatcakes). And the most delightful thing about this gluttonous evening is that it was all totally illegal. You cannot bring Haggis into the United States. U.S. Customs has always been skittish about foreign meat products but the mad cow scare of the late 1980’s made their prejudice official. I spent an irritating 90 minutes in the Customs holding pen at New York’s JFK when I tried to smuggle a can of haggis into Arenzville. The amazing thing is that after chewing out my Scottish butt royally they let me keep it. I still can’t figure that one out. If you’re not familiar with Haggis, it’s a sort of sausage made by rolling cooked sheep’s offal…the heart, lung, and kidneys…in oats and pepper then stuffing it into beef intestine and boiling it. And please, before you stick your Yankee nose in the air, consider the contents of your next hotdog. I find it delicious..and heavy. It lands like a petrified scone in your gut, but at least you know you’ve had breakfast. Most of my fellow Jacksonville travelers found it quite palatable on our tour of the Highlands last summer. The balked a bit at the blood pudding, but lapped up the “wee haggi.” The good news is that the USDA at the request of the Scottish government is considering lifting the ban on haggis. The mad cows are pretty much forgotten although a few are still in a state of irritation, and the nine million Scottish Americans seem to be yearning for a taste of their homeland. Once considered only food of the poor, haggis is now turning up in some of Europe’s classiest restaurants with regional spins…Italian Haggis, French Haggis. The bad news is that the USDA moves at the pace of a sautéed snail so I wouldn’t advise turning the Schwan’s man away from your door any time soon in hopes of a haggis feast coming your way. Me? Bring it on! To quote Burns in his last stanza of “Ode to the Haggis!” You powers who make mankind your care And dish them out their meals Old Scotland wants no watery food That splashes in dishes But if you wish her grateful prayer Give her a haggis! Okay, so not all Americans are crazy about the stuff. When President George W. Bush was offered some of the stuff during the G8 Summit at Gleneagles, he said “No.” Of course he was a Republican.