Ye Pow’rs wha mak mankind your care,
And dish them out their bill o’ fare,
Auld Scotland wants nae skinking ware
That jaups in luggies;
But, if ye wish her gratefu’ prayer,
Gie her a Haggis!

 “Address to a Haggis” by Robert Burns, First printed in The Caledonian Mercury in 1786

To my friends in Scotland, this is for you, on your (very weird to an American 🙂 ) wonderful celebration of Burns Night. For explanation of Burns Night, if you, like me had no idea wtf this was on about, this is a good introduction to it. The above is the last line of the poem. The full poem can be read here.

Featured photo by “David of Edinburgh” of his dinner tonight. 🙂 Haggis, neeps and tatties, and of course … whiskey.

Visit Linda G. Hill, the hostess for One-Liner Wednesdays for some wonderful quick reads and to learn the guidelines (few) for participating.

5 Comments

  1. I wonder how he gets the neeps to turn out like that. My one attempt to make “bashed neeps” (from a very old recipe, dating back to a time when “neeps” meant any root vegetable or mix thereof, although turnips were usually involved) didn’t go well, because turnips and rutabagas DO NOT mash easily the way potatoes do.

    Liked by 1 person

    2. rutabaga in this case – aka “swede” in the UK – for some reason they used to be called “swedish turnip” over here – peeled, cubed to no larger than 1.5 inch. Cook in salted water like spuds and use the old test for “when they are done,” not a timer. Stick your paring knife in one. If you can lift it out of the water before it falls off the knife blade, they need a bit longer. They’ll take about 20% longer than similarly sized pieces of potato. Drain thoroughly in a colander, leave for about a minute to make sure they are no longer “wet,” then back into the pan (still warm but without any heat under it) and hit ’em with the masher. They WILL be harder going than potato initially, but persist. When they are starting to actually look and feel properly mashed, add plenty of butter and keep going. Then add a little more butter, because you never add enough the first go around. Enough always feels like “too much.” They’ll very shortly end up like those in the picture of my supper last night 🙂

      Liked by 2 people

Comments are closed.