In Which We Celebrate Burns Night

Today is January 25th and the birthday of Scottish Poet Robert Burns, making tonight Burns Night. If the flood of emails I receive from the Scottish Tourist Board is to be believed, this is a cause for great celebration.

Of course, I'm in London not Edinburgh so things are little more subdued here. If I were not a poor grad student, I would consider going to one of the many ceilidhs (pronounced kay-lee) being thrown around town tonight. Back when I was at St. Andrews, I occasionally attended the weekly ceilidh at the student union and it was always a good time, thanks in no small part to the surplus of women in need of dance partners.

Haggis served with neeps (turnips) and tatties (mashed potatoes) is the traditional Burns Night meal, so I made every effort to procure this highland delicacy for myself, starting with the haggis…

According to The Scotsman, Scotland's most preeminent newspaper, the haggis is a small, soft, animal which is native to the highlands. In all seriousness, haggis belongs to that class of meat products (including hot dogs) of which it is best not to think about how it is made. Nevertheless, haggis is a delicious dish which tastes somewhat like scrapple. I wasn't about to attempt to make my own haggis, but I found this lovely little product at the local Waitrose:

Priced to move at £1.50 and in a microwavable package no less, it was the perfect option.

I looked high and low, but was unable to find any neeps at the store so I had to make do with just haggis and tatties.

The finished product:

It was in fact quite delicious.

Haggis is meant to be accompanied by a dram of whisky. However, since I am but a poor scholar, I had to settle for Irn-Bru:

Irn-Bru (pronounced Iron Brew) is Scotland's national soft drink. While it contains neither iron nor brew, it is the only soft drink I know of which comes with a warning that it will stain your clothes if you spill it. It is also quite tasty. Scots will tell you that it was/is more popular than Coke or Pepsi in Scotland, but I suspect this is only an urban legend.

And that was my Burns Night.

Lang may yer lum reek!