A Day of Reverence

"Fair fa' your honest, sonsie face,Great chieftain o' the puddin'-race!"

Happy International Haggis Appreciation Day!

Ye faithful: On this innocently brisk late summer day, as you are frolicking about your daily pasttimes, let us not disregard our anam cara (soul friend, Gaelic) The Noble Haggis. For today, is International Haggis Appreciation Day!

Let us not forsake the form and function of this glorious foodstuff that has graciously nourished both the thoroughbred patrician and the oppressed destitutes with nary a discrimination. For without the revered haggis, my clan, Clan McIsaac, would not have survived feast, famine, or a treasonous attack by the accursed Campbells (1692, Glencoe, lest we forget)! Twas a fortuitous day indeed when the first shepherd decided that the only possible way to get more enjoyment out of his sheep was to stuff the leftover bits (lungs, kidneys, whatev) into its own stomach, along with some wee neeps, tatties, and barley and roast it. YUMMM!!!

<--Tribute to the Glencoe Massacre Were it not for you, dear Haggis, we would not have such sport as the Wild Haggis Hunt (which was mercifully not banned by Parliament in league with fox hunting). Haggis scotius (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wild_Haggis) has roamed the highlands for nearly as Ye, my beloved domesticated haggis. Ye also made possible the lovely sport of Haggis Hurling (http://www.haggishurling.org/hweb/Default.htm), a vital part of our national heritage since 1977.

<--Wild and Domestic Haggis

But in all seriousness, my delightfully nutty haggis, ye have been the savior of we Scots in famine and our celebratory sustenance in glory days. Ye were the inspiration of Dear Rabbie (Burns) and the strength o' brave Billy Wallace and Rob Roy. Your revered grayish mushiness hath sustained my kin for nigh 10 centuries and ye shalt be consumed (and fed to unsuspecting tourists) for eons to come. May Your spicy, masticated lung insides never be veganized, for that would be an insult to Your greatness.

To you, esteemed Haggis, I lif' me dram o' Laphroig (for it is 5 o'clock somewhere) and toast ye as only the noble Rabbie Burns could pen:

Fair fa' your honest, sonsie face, Great chieftain o' the puddin'-race! Aboon them a' ye tak yer place, Painch, tripe, or thairm: Weel are ye wordy o' agrace As lang's my airm.

The groaning trencher there ye fill, Your hurdies like a distant hill, Your pin wad help to mend a mill In time o need, While thro your pores the dews distil Like amber bead.

His knife see rustic Labour dicht, An cut you up wi ready slicht, Trenching your gushing entrails bricht, Like onie ditch; And then, Oh what a glorious sicht, Warm-reekin, rich!

Then, horn for horn, they stretch an strive: Deil tak the hindmaist, on they drive, Till a' their weel-swall'd kytes belyve Are bent like drums; Then auld Guidman, maist like to rive, 'Bethankit' hums

Is there that ower his French ragout, Or olio that wad staw a sow, Or fricassee wad mak her spew Wi perfect scunner, Looks down wi' sneering, scornfu view On sic a dinner?

Poor devil! see him ower his trash, As feckless as a wither'd rash, His spindle shank a guid whip-lash, His nieve a nit: Thro bloody flood or field to dash, Oh how unfit!

But mark the Rustic, haggis-fed, The trembling earth resounds his tread, Clap in his wallie nieve a blade, He'll make it whissle; An legs an arms, an heads will sned, Like taps o thrissle.

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, Robert Burns

This entry is dedicated to Erin, who truly understands the meaning of International Haggis Appreciation Day :-)