Lola at the Coffee House

gaining while I look.....

I know just what you mean. I am on my way out now, and I plan to pick up some corn muffins.

I'm bumping ff because it is the gentlemanly thing to do for a refined lady. Like opening a door.

Or seeing that she's properly seated.

Oh don't - I used to love a good haggis when I lived nearer to Scotland - many moons ago - it can be delicious if properly made and cooked!

AYYY, Uh Fairst wey mus keel it!!

I love that bit on Burns Night - the haggis is piped in, then addressed -
"Fair fa' your honest, sonsie face,
Great chieftain o' the puddin-race!
Aboon them a' ye tak your place,
Painch, tripe, or thairm:
Weel are ye wordy o' a grace
As lang's my arm.

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 ony ditch;
And then, O 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 o're 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,
O how unfit!

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

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

Then he stabs it!!!

We are the pride of the Army
and a regiment of great renown,
Our Name's on the pages of History,
from sixty-six on down.
If you think we stop or falter
while into the fray we're going
just watch the steps with our head erect,
while our band plays Garryowen. (Chorus)

In the Fighting Seventh's the place for me,
Its the cream of the Cavalry;
No other regiment ever can claim
Its pride, honor, glory and undying fame.

We know fear when stern duty
calls us far away from home,
Our country's flag shall safely o'er us wave,
No matter where we roam.
"Tis the gallant 7th Cavalry
it matters not where we are going"
Such you'll surely say as we march away;
and our band plays Garryowen.

In the Fighting Seventh's the place for me,
Its the cream of the Cavalry;
No other regiment ever can claim
Its pride, honor, glory and undying fame.


The hurrah for our brave commanders!
Who led us into the fight.
We'll do or die in our country's cause,
and battle for the right.
And when the war is o'er,
and to our home we're goin
just watch your step, with our heads erect,
when our band plays Garryowen.

In the Fighting Seventh's the place for me,
Its the cream of the Cavalry;
No other regiment ever can claim
Its pride, honor, glory and undying fame.

What do you stab???

roast piglets, they are nice and tender - but, we throw all the innards away......

Only because you are rich. Giblet soup is a luxury in some places.

And if you eat meat products which are not readily identifiable ; sausages, burgers, frankfurters, salami, pate type of thing, there's a good chance of some innards being mixed in. Ground up of course. A steer's colon is beef. Excellent source of protein. Tripe has now become a delicacy in England. Same with lamb's fries which are only semi-innards.

Rump steak is widely acceptable.

Sausage skins are sheep intestine. In the traditional brands at least.

I think a lot of predatory animals go for the innards first. Maybe because they are easier to chew or maybe they are richest in nutrient. Our steaks and joints have been "hung" for a few days to render them ripe and tender.

When Homer's gang slaughtered the Oxen of the Sum and then roasted them it must have been tough on the few teeth they still had.

Imagine yourself, Bill, being an entrepreneur in the meat processing business.

In which case the half-forkful I once tried at a Burns Nite must have been very improperly made and cooked.

I didn't dare swallow it.

It struck me at the time, vonny, that it was a test of the capacity to eat anything.

we have a tradition of eating chitterlings fried in lard in the Southern US, but even these are cleand to an extreme and then flavored. Chitterlings can be enjoyed without any aculturation , sort of like eating "mountain oysters"
However Haggis does appear to be somet
hing that, a taste for, is definately "acquired"

wonderful!

Why are you sulking?

You can get Haggis and chips in the chip shops in Northumberland, it's not a lot different from sausage and chips.

With gravy

Or Vinegar on the chips....

Sitting back peacefully, watching the fire, glass of white in hand, alone for now, patiently waiting for guests....

Thinking of my recipe book "Mad Chef" ..... When it dawned on me, why do I now sing my cat to sleep?

"Little Boy Blue and the man in the moon, when you coming home son I don't know when we'll get together then, son, you know we'll have a good time then, and the cats in the cradle and the silver moon, little boy blue and the man in the moon..............and then he falls asleep.

Then I remembered. I started this, after, my little Jetstar passed day after Xmas and little Missy on NYE in my arms.

Little boy blue and the man in the moon..................

What will I be thinking after a full glass of wine?

Memories.

Anyone know who wrote that song?

When I lived up there, haggis was only available from a master butcher in Jesmond - it was made with herbs and spices, something of an art, and was really rather delicious.

Haven't had it for many years - I gave up eating red meat a long time ago!