When you enter into a friendship with a Scot you become
ingratiated into a world of traditions incorporating both the bizarre and the
wonderful. No one would assume that a
group of friends arranging what can only be called a dinner party to celebrate
the life of one their own in 1802 would today be such a worldwide calling. Such is the story of Burns Night.
I can talk about this with authority. I have been welcomed into the world of Robert
Burns through many friends over the years and can attest to the sometimes
strange and random occurrences these particular celebrations involve. They also seem well able to always deliver the
‘I’m never going to recover’ hangover the next day. I am currently reflecting on the most recent.
Each year on the 25th January people all over the
world celebrate the life of Robert Burns and Scottish heritage, (it is apparent
that you do not need this to participate).
It is on this evening that you will eat foods you would
never normally consider eating, drink whisky with your meal (supposedly just a
wee dram – don’t believe it!) and eat more oats in one meal than you would
normally eat in a year’s worth of breakfasts.
Many of the traditions suggest you know the people you are
dining with very well and are not in the least bit surprised by their behaviour
during the evening.
Welcomed into the home with the first ‘wee dram’ of Whisky from
a friendship goblet this tradition assumes you already know what ailments your
friends currently have and intend to share with you or you really are such a
good friend that you don’t mind in the slightest.
Before you actually eat a number of things will happen. Firstly, a cacophony of ear burning sounds
will resonate throughout the house as the bagpipes are played in honour of the
Haggis being transported to its final resting place. At this point one should be appreciative of
the difficulty in playing this instrument if not of the sound itself. Secondly, the latent inner thespian of one of
your party will recite an ode to Robbie Burns by way of an ‘Address to the
Haggis’. Now suddenly faced with a close
and personal friend dressed in a kilt and showing an alarming amount of knee
whilst talking passionately to a less than tempting lump of meat on a plate can
only make you wonder if you have wandered into the wrong house. You can muse over this while trying to understand
what exactly is being said to the aforementioned dish.
Then we come to the food itself. It is at this point that, if you started to
consider what you were eating, you may well put on a serene smile and explain
that you have recently turned vegetarian.
You should not do this. Not only
is it rude but you would be missing out of one of the great (if somewhat
unexpected) dishes out there.
Let’s be honest... the Haggis itself is no beauty. Although it is known as the ‘Great Chieftain
o’ The Puddin-Race’, it does in fact look exactly like the ingredients it
is. So, in the name of continuous
development of your inner gourmet, see if for a moment you can imagine a dish
made from sheep’s heart, liver and lungs not so subtlety flavoured with
lashings of spices, suet, oatmeal and stock encased in a sheep’s stomach and
cooked for several hours. I know what you're thinking but it really is very good.
Accompanying this alien style of food will be Tatties and
Neeps (or mashed potatoes and turnips to the uninitiated).
For those who have a penchant for sweet things, pudding
usually comes in the form of more oatmeal.
Clootie Pudding (made from suet, oatmeal, fruit and spice) or Cranachan
(oatmeal, double cream and Drambuie) are the preferred options should you have
any room left for more food.
More whisky ensues (assuming generous hosts) followed by
laughter, merriment and after a few drams, some quite interesting dancing which
everyone will later agree is best forgotten.
Far from the traditional dinner party, Burns Night offers
gourmet experimentation, theatre, full stomachs and plenty of laughter –
definitely something to try.
Like I said... from the bizarre to the wonderful all in one evening, how can you possibly resist?
No comments:
Post a Comment