Tales of a Haggis Virgin

This past Saturday was my first run-in with a Haggis. I don't wish to imply that we merely bumped into each other, or we had some kind accidental collision. No, I chose this fate.

Haggis has always scared me a little. When I was younger, I had some offal experiences when eating liver, and ever since organ meats have been avoided. Also, the idea of a sheep stomach being involved in the presentation was somewhat off-putting. Heck, I visited Scotland and opted not to taste the celebrated dish. Well, no more I said, when a dinner invitation was extended (much like my own stomach was later to be).

Dinner was prepared by a Scot. I was liberally watered with a few substantial glasses of Laphroaig. The warm-up was cock-a-leekie soup. I was ready. And, hey! this is pretty good! It's really not so frightening. The sheep stomach isn't eaten - it's an just old style 'seal and steam' ziplock. While the haggis itself contains organ meats, it's all part of the mix, which is a fairly dense, oat-based concoction. All served with neeps (turnips) and tatties (mashed potatoes).

As part of the Robbie Burns celebration, I was asked (as the resident newbie) to recite some of Burns' '(Address) To a Haggis'. I got through the first page, but my pronunciation was so poor, the book was yanked before I could conclude: Gie her a Haggis!

An intact haggis on the left. A larger, split open one on the right.
Close up of the smaller haggis after the jump.