The recounting of haggis recipes must be solely to scare the uninitiated into never wanting to try the stuff. I’m not quite sure why.
Surely, from the sound of it, the Scottish national dish made from lamb offal (the heart, liver and other organs) that are chopped, highly seasoned, mixed with oats and lard before being stuffed into a lamb stomach and steamed, would be off-putting to even the hardiest of omnivores. Sounds disgusting, no? Well the reality of the dish glorified by Robert Burns in “Address to A Haggis” is that it is absolutely de-lish! I kid you not.
Traditionally, in its most humble form, haggis is served in equal amounts with “neeps and tatties” which are mashed turnips and potatoes that mix and marry well with the earthy savor of the haggis. It’s a big plate of mushy comfort food with seemingly magical restorative properties – mainly as a component in a full Scottish breakfast after a night of over indulgence.
Sometimes haggis is served sauced and sometimes it’s not. Generally, I prefer my haggis with a little sauce. The very best version, in my opinion, is the way it was served to me a few years ago at Glenmorangie House in Cadboll on the Scottish coast. That was my first experience with a straight shot of Scotch whiskey over the top of a haggis stack (which is the gussied up cousin of the humble dollops one finds in most pubs).
When I’m in Scotland, I try to make sure that haggis in on the breakfast menu, on the lunch menu and on the dinner menu, too. I will travel to source out the best (or the next) haggis.
This trip, I had heard that W.T.S. Forsyth & Sons, the butcher in Peebles, made the yummiest haggis pies so we made a special stop to buy some. Unfortunately, they only make them between Robert Burns Night in January and the end of April. That is Mr. Forsyth the proprietor showing off his haggis handiwork in the image below. Even though he didn’t have any pies, he made certain that we didn’t leave empty-handed. He sliced two thick rounds of the haggis sausage for us to take away. The next morning, our hostess topped it with fried, organic eggs from her hens for breakfast. Just so you know, runny egg yolks count as sauce.
I must admit, Mr. Forsyth makes a divine haggis. The oats were perfectly pearl and the haggis was a more coarse style and slightly fluffy. Haggis will vary in style from butcher to butcher and I haven’t found one yet that I didn’t like.
In contrast, at Monachyle Mhor, a glorious restaurant and inn that is run by the renowned British chef Tom Lewis and his family, we were presented with some very elegant haggis “bonbons” with our cocktails. Chef Lewis used a finer textured haggis to shape into perfectly round balls that were lightly breaded and deep fried. It’s a pity that they only served us one each and an even bigger pity that my husband, Rom, forbade me to take out my camera. I would have loved to show them to you.
Lastly, there is a Polish restaurant in Edinburgh called Pani Solinska’s and they make haggis periogi. My Polish husband thinks these sound like the stuff of dreams but we ran out of time before we could eat there. It’s a good culinary excuse to plan a return visit to Edinburgh not too far in the future!
