We went to a belated Robbie Burns supper on Saturday. It was a cozy, boozy evening with food, poetry, alcohol, and music.
It was also an evening of firsts: my first Robbie Burns supper, and my first taste of Haggis.
Party-wise? Great fun.
It is truly as disgusting as it looks.
It's one of those things about Scotland that I just don't get.
Speaking of which, have you ever noticed that people who are into Scotland are REEEEEALLY into Scotland? I mean, I have a wee bit o' Scottish blood too, but I have NO desire to go to a cold, barren place where the national culinary delicacy looks like this:
Give me Shepherd's Pie any day, but not this mix of offal and oatmeal cooked in a sheep's stomach. Blecccch.
Seriously, were my ancestors starving when they invented it?
People who are INTO Scotland go all glassy-eyed when talking about it, they break into Scottish accents at every opportunity, take their vacations there (and recount the whole trip, pub by pub, when they get back), and love Scotch -- the peatier the better.
Me? I like oatmeal and bagpipes, and not necessarily in that order.
And don't tell the ancestors, but I prefer Irish Whiskey!