http://www.nytimes.com/2014/12/21/tr...nd-haggis.html

In Scotland, Guts, Glory and Haggis

DEC. 19, 2014
By CHERYL LU-LIEN TAN

Just before 5 in the morning, the slender streets of little Dingwall, a
town in the heart of the Scottish Highlands, were completely silent.

No cars waited at the handful of stoplights downtown; even the bakers
hadnt stirred. In the cool, still grayness, I tiptoed through the
streets, marveling at the squat green hills that frame the town, feeling
slightly disoriented, though I knew it must be impossible to get lost in
such a snug place.

I rounded a bend and came upon what had drawn me to this sleepy town:
George Cockburn & Son, champions of Scotlands first national haggis
competition in 1976.

Ah, haggis. Before Id gone to Scotland this year, I wondered what
exactly made the dish €” sheeps innards packed into sheeps stomach €”
qualify as a delicacy. But as an adventurous cook and eater, I pride
myself in trying everything at least once, so I eagerly spooned a first
taste of it into my mouth at a castle in Edinburgh. It was a revelation
€” intensely rich and meaty, with the earthy flavor of what my mother
calls €œspare parts€� combined with the comforting muskiness of oatmeal.
It instantly won me over.

During my five-week stay in Scotland, I would seek it out wherever I
went €” trying it both in its traditional form, as €œhaggis, neeps and
tatties€� (haggis, parsnips and potatoes), but also tucked within
dumplings and presented in other modern forms on menus. (Sadly, I was
unable to find a bar snack of haggis nachos a friend had told me about.)
In one of Edinburghs best traditional Scottish restaurants, though, I
noticed that Cockburns haggis was often on offer. The butchery may be
tiny but it ships to restaurants and grocers all over Britain. Then I
heard that Cockburn was the first champion haggis maker in the country.
I knew I had to visit.

Curious, I dialed the owner with an unusual request: Could I come and
help you make haggis? Though the company doesnt offer haggis-making
tours to the public, my experience is instructive because there are
plenty of places to learn. (See below.) However, getting to those may
not offer the idyllic train trip I took through Northern Scotland, past
Inverness and the scenic Moray Firth, to Dingwall.Â*

Like many small towns in Scotland, Dingwall has a train station, a
hotel, a few Chinese takeouts, more than a few pubs and a local business
that gives the place name recognition, in this case, Cockburn haggis.
The morning I navigated its empty streets, I arrived at the small shop
at just the right time €” the meat truck had pulled up, and Fraser
MacGregor, a clean-cut, muscular man in a sharp blue-and-white
pinstriped doctors-style coat, blue dress shirt, neatly knotted tie and
sleek white fedora, was hard at work hoisting boxes of suet and lamb,
each weighing many kilograms, into his spacious, pristine kitchen.

Mr. MacGregor, 46, hadnt been at the 1976 haggis competition himself,
but hes been working at Cockburn since he was 16, eventually buying it
from Jocky McCallum, the owner who came up with the winning haggis
recipe. Haggis, Scotlands national dish, has been made and consumed in
the country for centuries €” long before the poet Robert Burns wrote an
ode to it 1787. Its the ultimate peasant food €” a dish that involved
stuffing lungs and livers into a stomach casing ensured that no part of
the animal went to waste. It has become such a source of national
identity that in addition to the meat traders competition for haggis
making, there are others for eating and hurling the food.

A haggis fan himself, having had it for dinner two to three times a week
since he was a €œbairn,€� Mr. MacGregor prides himself in keeping the
tradition alive.

And so, even though hes the boss now, Mr. MacGregor says he makes the
shops haggis every week. €œNormally you start at the bottom and work
your way up to the top,€� he said. €œBut no, Im still doing the same job
I was when I was 16.€�

The prized haggis recipe was handed over with the store, and the version
made today is the one that won. Cockburn haggis is in such demand that
Mr. MacGregor spends two mornings each week making a total of about
1,100 pounds for clients all over Britain and beyond, to countries
including Hungary and Germany. In January, when Britain lights up with
Burns suppers celebrating the work of Robert Burns, Cockburn is
inundated with orders, as haggis is the star of all these suppers. That
month, Mr. MacGregor makes haggis seven days a week, churning out about
15 tons by the end.

I was grateful not to be visiting in January but still, I quickly
realized I wasnt quite prepared for the task at hand. After handing me
a white coat and fedora Mr. MacGregor handed me, he asked if I needed
anything, a cup of tea perhaps, and then we set to work. The process had
begun the night before, with Mr. MacGregor boiling 220 pounds of lamb
lungs and livers, which he now started fishing out of a giant silver vat
with a large netted scoop. Soon, he had built up a huge mound of
steaming chocolate-brown meat parts on a big trough.

Mr. MacGregor waved me over and showed me the drill: Grab a lamb lung or
heart, rip it apart with your fingers and pull out the rubbery veins and
tubes inside and discard those.

I tried to hide my shock €” Lamb lungs? Hearts? Tubey rubbery bits?

With great concentration €” and €œEye of the Tiger€� playing on the radio €”
Mr. MacGregor quickly set to work. I followed his lead.

I grabbed the first brown piece I could find. I tried not to wince as I
felt its textu warm, slippery, squidgy. I could not tell lung from
heart at that point. Having been boiled to softness, it easily came
apart as my fingers tore through, giving way to meat that was slightly
rubbery yet also mealy in texture. Locating the veins and tubes was easy
€” extricating them a little more trying. I felt as though I was trying
to pull elastic bands out from a rock. Soon, I realized I had to sink my
nails in and get down and dirty €” deeply clawing my way into each heart
to grab enough of the tubing to give it a firm yank.

By a rough count, we had a few hundred lamb pieces in front of us.
Squeamishness was going to get me nowhere. Gradually, Mr. MacGregor and
I settled into a quiet rhythm, picking up lung after heart after lung,
until there were none left to de-vein.

Once we had a nice mound of heart and lung bits, Mr. MacGregor mixed
these in a trough with liquid left over from boiling the lamb parts,
meal, dried onions and a variety of spices €” the secret recipe. Then he
ran the mixture through a giant processor, twice, amassing several
troughs of light brown pulp.

Now this was starting to look more like the haggis Id eaten in
Edinburgh. When Id first arrived in Scotland and inquired about haggis,
a local friend, finding my enthusiasm for the stuff amusing, had said,
€œDo you like porridge? Its like a meat porridge.€� And its true €” while
haggis at its inception was stuffed into sheeps stomachs and boiled,
the versions youll find in Scottish homes and restaurants these days
tend to be a mealy mess of meat, spices, oats and onions all mixed together.

Mr. MacGregor now had a big, brown porridge-like pile before him, which
he fed into a machine that funneled haggis into plastic tubing of
various sizes €” one-, two- and several-pound versions. But there was a
special casing for high-end proprietors. For a fancy hotel that had
ordered a traditional haggis, he disappeared into his fridge for a
moment, emerging with what looked like a sickly yellowish white plastic bag.

€œFeel it,€� he said, smiling. €œThis is a sheeps stomach.€�

My nose wasnt anywhere near his hands but I could already smell it €” a
rubbery fetid stench, something like melted rubber combined with rotting
meat. And when I pressed my fingers on the stomach, it felt rubbery and
wrinkly.

As the haggis meal filled it, puffing it up, the stench of the stomach
grew even stronger. When Mr. MacGregor saw me grimacing, he confessed
that it wasnt his favorite way of having haggis. €œI always eat it
packed in tubes.€�

After that, the bulk of our job was done €” Mr. MacGregor and I loaded
the haggis tubes into the boiler and 30 minutes later, we were hauling
out our dark-chocolate-brown bounty. Since some of them had split open
during boiling, Mr. MacGregor nudged me to dig in.

I pinched a bit with my fingers and popped it into my mouth.

On my way to Dingwall, as my train had raced past verdant country
tableaus and breathtaking waterways, I wondered if the ride itself would
be the highlight of my trip. Standing in that kitchen, lamb bits between
my nails and a mouth filled with freshly made haggis, however, I
realized that the ride paled in comparison. This had made the trek worth
it. I was so taken with the flavor, I instinctively closed my eyes to
hold that feeling a little more.

INNARD STRENGTH

Edinburgh New Town Cookery School, 7 Queen Street, Edinburgh;
entcs.co.uk. Bespoke classes for groups interested in learning how to
make haggis and use it in dishes.

The Cookery School, Jacobean Corsetry Building, 53 Virginia Street,
Glasgow; thecookeryschoolÂ*.org. Some classes include segments on cooking
with haggis.

Cookery at The Grange, The Grange, Whatley Frome, Somerset;
cookeryatthegrangeÂ*.co.uk. The four-week Essential Cookery Course
includes a lesson on cooking with haggis around Burns night.

On 12/19/2014 1:41 PM, Travis McGee wrote:
> http://www.nytimes.com/2014/12/21/tr...nd-haggis.html
>
> In Scotland, Guts, Glory and Haggis
(snip)
> During my five-week stay in Scotland, I would seek it out wherever I
> went €” trying it both in its traditional form, as €œhaggis, neeps and
> tatties€� (haggis, parsnips and potatoes),

Neeps are _not_ parsnips!
They're rutabagas/wax turnips/yellow turnips/swedes.

"S Viemeister" > wrote in message
...
> On 12/19/2014 1:41 PM, Travis McGee wrote:
>> http://www.nytimes.com/2014/12/21/tr...nd-haggis.html
>>
>> In Scotland, Guts, Glory and Haggis
> (snip)
>> During my five-week stay in Scotland, I would seek it out wherever I
>> went €” trying it both in its traditional form, as €œhaggis, neeps and
>> tatties€� (haggis, parsnips and potatoes),
>
> Neeps are _not_ parsnips!
> They're rutabagas/wax turnips/yellow turnips/swedes.

Indeed they are!!!

--
http://www.helpforheroes.org.uk/shop/

On Fri, 19 Dec 2014 16:42:35 -0500, S Viemeister
> wrote:

>On 12/19/2014 1:41 PM, Travis McGee wrote:
>> http://www.nytimes.com/2014/12/21/tr...nd-haggis.html
>>
>> In Scotland, Guts, Glory and Haggis
>(snip)
>> During my five-week stay in Scotland, I would seek it out wherever I
>> went — trying it both in its traditional form, as “haggis, neeps and
>> tatties” (haggis, parsnips and potatoes),
>
>Neeps are _not_ parsnips!
>They're rutabagas/wax turnips/yellow turnips/swedes.

I went to school in England for a year (6th form) when my dad was
stationed in Germany. Before that I had never tasted rutabagas,
because my dad hated them, and my grandmother had cooked them so often
that he swore he'd never allow them in his house.

Anyway, I loved them. Nobody else in school did, so all the more for
me!

Then I got married, and my husband's mother had cooked them so often
(plus ruined mashed potatoes by mixing them in) that he swore he'd
never allow them in his house.

Now the only time I get them is when my MIL cooks them, but she ruins
them by mixing in mashed potatoes.

Doris

On 12/19/2014 4:44 PM, Ophelia wrote:
>
>
> "S Viemeister" > wrote in message
> ...
>> On 12/19/2014 1:41 PM, Travis McGee wrote:
>>> http://www.nytimes.com/2014/12/21/tr...nd-haggis.html
>>>
>>>
>>> In Scotland, Guts, Glory and Haggis
>> (snip)
>>> During my five-week stay in Scotland, I would seek it out wherever I
>>> went €” trying it both in its traditional form, as €œhaggis, neeps and
>>> tatties€� (haggis, parsnips and potatoes),
>>
>> Neeps are _not_ parsnips!
>> They're rutabagas/wax turnips/yellow turnips/swedes.
>
> Indeed they are!!!
>
+1, but I've no great liking for neeps. In fact. the only time I ever
enjoyed them was in a provincial restaurant in Quebec.

--
Jim Silverton (Potomac, MD)

Extraneous "not." in Reply To.

Has anyone heard rutabagas called hanovers? That's what my grandmother called them.

"Doris Night" > wrote in message
...
> On Fri, 19 Dec 2014 16:42:35 -0500, S Viemeister
> > wrote:
>
>>On 12/19/2014 1:41 PM, Travis McGee wrote:
>>> http://www.nytimes.com/2014/12/21/tr...nd-haggis.html
>>>
>>> In Scotland, Guts, Glory and Haggis
>>(snip)
>>> During my five-week stay in Scotland, I would seek it out wherever I
>>> went - trying it both in its traditional form, as "haggis, neeps and
>>> tatties" (haggis, parsnips and potatoes),
>>
>>Neeps are _not_ parsnips!
>>They're rutabagas/wax turnips/yellow turnips/swedes.
>
> I went to school in England for a year (6th form) when my dad was
> stationed in Germany. Before that I had never tasted rutabagas,
> because my dad hated them, and my grandmother had cooked them so often
> that he swore he'd never allow them in his house.

Where in England? )

>
> Anyway, I loved them. Nobody else in school did, so all the more for
> me!
>
> Then I got married, and my husband's mother had cooked them so often
> (plus ruined mashed potatoes by mixing them in) that he swore he'd
> never allow them in his house.
>
> Now the only time I get them is when my MIL cooks them, but she ruins
> them by mixing in mashed potatoes.

Only because you know the right way to cook them) btw in England they
are just called swede!


--
http://www.helpforheroes.org.uk/shop/

"James Silverton" > wrote in message
...
> On 12/19/2014 4:44 PM, Ophelia wrote:
>>
>>
>> "S Viemeister" > wrote in message
>> ...
>>> On 12/19/2014 1:41 PM, Travis McGee wrote:
>>>> http://www.nytimes.com/2014/12/21/tr...nd-haggis.html
>>>>
>>>>
>>>> In Scotland, Guts, Glory and Haggis
>>> (snip)
>>>> During my five-week stay in Scotland, I would seek it out wherever I
>>>> went €” trying it both in its traditional form, as €œhaggis, neeps and
>>>> tatties€� (haggis, parsnips and potatoes),
>>>
>>> Neeps are _not_ parsnips!
>>> They're rutabagas/wax turnips/yellow turnips/swedes.
>>
>> Indeed they are!!!
>>
> +1, but I've no great liking for neeps. In fact. the only time I ever
> enjoyed them was in a provincial restaurant in Quebec.

How did they cook them?


--
http://www.helpforheroes.org.uk/shop/

Sadly haggis is, as the author of the article said, a mealy mess. It's
not supposed to be that way. Even the haggis at a good Masonic Burns
Dinner is usually for shit - prepared as kind of a joke to get some
fraternal laughs.

A good, tasty haggis would be lost on people these days.

On 2014-12-19 6:15 PM, Doris Night wrote:
!
>
> Then I got married, and my husband's mother had cooked them so often
> (plus ruined mashed potatoes by mixing them in) that he swore he'd
> never allow them in his house.
>
> Now the only time I get them is when my MIL cooks them, but she ruins
> them by mixing in mashed potatoes.
>


When I was a kid we never had lamb or rabbit. My father was raised on a
rabbit ranch during the Depression and ate way too much rabbit. Then he
was in the air force and spent a few years in the UK and the only meat
they had regularly was mutton.

My mom said they ate mutton a lot when she was a kid.

On 12/19/2014 6:37 PM, Ophelia wrote:
>
>
> "James Silverton" > wrote in message
> ...
>> On 12/19/2014 4:44 PM, Ophelia wrote:
>>>
>>>
>>> "S Viemeister" > wrote in message
>>> ...
>>>> On 12/19/2014 1:41 PM, Travis McGee wrote:
>>>>> http://www.nytimes.com/2014/12/21/tr...nd-haggis.html
>>>>>
>>>>>
>>>>>
>>>>> In Scotland, Guts, Glory and Haggis
>>>> (snip)
>>>>> During my five-week stay in Scotland, I would seek it out wherever I
>>>>> went €” trying it both in its traditional form, as €œhaggis, neeps and
>>>>> tatties€� (haggis, parsnips and potatoes),
>>>>
>>>> Neeps are _not_ parsnips!
>>>> They're rutabagas/wax turnips/yellow turnips/swedes.
>>>
>>> Indeed they are!!!
>>>
>> +1, but I've no great liking for neeps. In fact. the only time I ever
>> enjoyed them was in a provincial restaurant in Quebec.
>
> How did they cook them?
>
>
Mashed with a little butter, I think.

--
Jim Silverton (Potomac, MD)

Extraneous "not." in Reply To.

Colts wrote:
>Has anyone heard rutabagas called hanovers? That's what my grandmother called them.

Hanovers are what were refered to as turnips the size of H cup
bosoms... granny is well endowed... obviously you're missing out on
heaven.

On 19/12/2014 2:42 PM, S Viemeister wrote:
> On 12/19/2014 1:41 PM, Travis McGee wrote:
>> http://www.nytimes.com/2014/12/21/tr...nd-haggis.html
>>
>>
>> In Scotland, Guts, Glory and Haggis
> (snip)
>> During my five-week stay in Scotland, I would seek it out wherever I
>> went €” trying it both in its traditional form, as €œhaggis, neeps and
>> tatties€� (haggis, parsnips and potatoes),
>
> Neeps are _not_ parsnips!
> They're rutabagas/wax turnips/yellow turnips/swedes.

Probably what we called "cattle beet" in Suffolk:-)
Graham

On 19/12/2014 5:43 PM, wrote:
> On Fri, 19 Dec 2014 16:28:54 -0800 (PST), wrote:
>
>> My mom said they ate mutton a lot when she was a kid.
>
> I would love to get hold of a leg of mutton these days but in general
> lamb is much nicer.
>
Prince Chuck prefers a hogget.
Graham

On Fri, 19 Dec 2014 23:36:36 -0000, "Ophelia"
> wrote:

>"Doris Night" > wrote in message
.. .

>> I went to school in England for a year (6th form) when my dad was
>> stationed in Germany. Before that I had never tasted rutabagas,
>> because my dad hated them, and my grandmother had cooked them so often
>> that he swore he'd never allow them in his house.
>
>Where in England? )

Battle Abbey School, in Sussex. Back then (1970) it was an all girls
boarding school.

>> Anyway, I loved them. Nobody else in school did, so all the more for
>> me!
>>
>> Then I got married, and my husband's mother had cooked them so often
>> (plus ruined mashed potatoes by mixing them in) that he swore he'd
>> never allow them in his house.
>>
>> Now the only time I get them is when my MIL cooks them, but she ruins
>> them by mixing in mashed potatoes.
>
>Only because you know the right way to cook them) btw in England they
>are just called swede!

Yes, I think so. I like them mashed with butter, s&p, and a tiny bit
of brown sugar.

Doris

On 19/12/2014 7:29 PM, Bruce wrote:
> On Fri, 19 Dec 2014 19:13:49 -0700, graham > wrote:
>
>> On 19/12/2014 2:42 PM, S Viemeister wrote:
>>> On 12/19/2014 1:41 PM, Travis McGee wrote:
>>>> http://www.nytimes.com/2014/12/21/tr...nd-haggis.html
>>>>
>>>>
>>>> In Scotland, Guts, Glory and Haggis
>>> (snip)
>>>> During my five-week stay in Scotland, I would seek it out wherever I
>>>> went — trying it both in its traditional form, as “haggis, neeps and
>>>> tatties” (haggis, parsnips and potatoes),
>>>
>>> Neeps are _not_ parsnips!
>>> They're rutabagas/wax turnips/yellow turnips/swedes.
>>
>> Probably what we called "cattle beet" in Suffolk:-)
>
> Unless that was fodder beet:
> http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mangelwurzel
>
Did you see the :-) ?
"All Scottish cooking is based on a dare"(Mike Meyers) and I was taking
the ****!
Graham

"James Silverton" > wrote in message
...
> On 12/19/2014 6:37 PM, Ophelia wrote:
>>
>>
>> "James Silverton" > wrote in message
>> ...
>>> On 12/19/2014 4:44 PM, Ophelia wrote:
>>>>
>>>>
>>>> "S Viemeister" > wrote in message
>>>> ...
>>>>> On 12/19/2014 1:41 PM, Travis McGee wrote:
>>>>>> http://www.nytimes.com/2014/12/21/tr...nd-haggis.html
>>>>>>
>>>>>>
>>>>>>
>>>>>> In Scotland, Guts, Glory and Haggis
>>>>> (snip)
>>>>>> During my five-week stay in Scotland, I would seek it out wherever I
>>>>>> went €” trying it both in its traditional form, as €œhaggis, neeps and
>>>>>> tatties€� (haggis, parsnips and potatoes),
>>>>>
>>>>> Neeps are _not_ parsnips!
>>>>> They're rutabagas/wax turnips/yellow turnips/swedes.
>>>>
>>>> Indeed they are!!!
>>>>
>>> +1, but I've no great liking for neeps. In fact. the only time I ever
>>> enjoyed them was in a provincial restaurant in Quebec.
>>
>> How did they cook them?
>>
>>
> Mashed with a little butter, I think.

Perfect)

--
http://www.helpforheroes.org.uk/shop/

"Doris Night" > wrote in message
...
> On Fri, 19 Dec 2014 23:36:36 -0000, "Ophelia"
> > wrote:
>
>>"Doris Night" > wrote in message
. ..
>
>>> I went to school in England for a year (6th form) when my dad was
>>> stationed in Germany. Before that I had never tasted rutabagas,
>>> because my dad hated them, and my grandmother had cooked them so often
>>> that he swore he'd never allow them in his house.
>>
>>Where in England? )
>
> Battle Abbey School, in Sussex. Back then (1970) it was an all girls
> boarding school.

Ahhh in the South I am from Yorkshire

>
>>> Anyway, I loved them. Nobody else in school did, so all the more for
>>> me!
>>>
>>> Then I got married, and my husband's mother had cooked them so often
>>> (plus ruined mashed potatoes by mixing them in) that he swore he'd
>>> never allow them in his house.
>>>
>>> Now the only time I get them is when my MIL cooks them, but she ruins
>>> them by mixing in mashed potatoes.
>>
>>Only because you know the right way to cook them) btw in England they
>>are just called swede!
>
> Yes, I think so. I like them mashed with butter, s&p, and a tiny bit
> of brown sugar.

I haven't heard of adding sugar but it sounds ok)

--
http://www.helpforheroes.org.uk/shop/

In article >, says...
>
> On 19/12/2014 2:42 PM, S Viemeister wrote:
> > On 12/19/2014 1:41 PM, Travis McGee wrote:
> >> http://www.nytimes.com/2014/12/21/tr...nd-haggis.html
> >>
> >>
> >> In Scotland, Guts, Glory and Haggis
> > (snip)
> >> During my five-week stay in Scotland, I would seek it out wherever I
> >> went ? trying it both in its traditional form, as ?haggis, neeps and
> >> tatties? (haggis, parsnips and potatoes),
> >
> > Neeps are _not_ parsnips!
> > They're rutabagas/wax turnips/yellow turnips/swedes.
>
> Probably what we called "cattle beet" in Suffolk:-)
> Graham

Nope, cattle beet refers to mangelwurzels not swedes. Cattle are also
fed the pulp from sugar beet.

Janet UK

On 12/19/2014 9:13 PM, graham wrote:
> On 19/12/2014 2:42 PM, S Viemeister wrote:
>> On 12/19/2014 1:41 PM, Travis McGee wrote:
>>> http://www.nytimes.com/2014/12/21/tr...nd-haggis.html
>>> In Scotland, Guts, Glory and Haggis
>> (snip)
>>> During my five-week stay in Scotland, I would seek it out wherever I
>>> went €” trying it both in its traditional form, as €œhaggis, neeps and
>>> tatties€� (haggis, parsnips and potatoes),
>>
>> Neeps are _not_ parsnips!
>> They're rutabagas/wax turnips/yellow turnips/swedes.
>
> Probably what we called "cattle beet" in Suffolk:-)
>
I thought cattle beet was mangelwurzel.

On 19/12/2014 06:41 pm, Travis McGee wrote:
> http://www.nytimes.com/2014/12/21/tr...nd-haggis.html
>
>
> In Scotland, Guts, Glory and Haggis
>
> DEC. 19, 2014
> By CHERYL LU-LIEN TAN
>
> Just before 5 in the morning, the slender streets of little Dingwall, a
> town in the heart of the Scottish Highlands, were completely silent.
>
> No cars waited at the handful of stoplights downtown; even the bakers
> hadnt stirred. In the cool, still grayness, I tiptoed through the
> streets, marveling at the squat green hills that frame the town, feeling
> slightly disoriented, though I knew it must be impossible to get lost in
> such a snug place.
>
> I rounded a bend and came upon what had drawn me to this sleepy town:
> George Cockburn & Son, champions of Scotlands first national haggis
> competition in 1976.
>
> Ah, haggis. Before Id gone to Scotland this year, I wondered what
> exactly made the dish €” sheeps innards packed into sheeps stomach €”
> qualify as a delicacy. But as an adventurous cook and eater, I pride
> myself in trying everything at least once, so I eagerly spooned a first
> taste of it into my mouth at a castle in Edinburgh. It was a revelation
> €” intensely rich and meaty, with the earthy flavor of what my mother
> calls €œspare parts€� combined with the comforting muskiness of oatmeal.
> It instantly won me over.
>
> During my five-week stay in Scotland, I would seek it out wherever I
> went €” trying it both in its traditional form, as €œhaggis, neeps and
> tatties€� (haggis, parsnips and potatoes), but also tucked within
> dumplings and presented in other modern forms on menus. (Sadly, I was
> unable to find a bar snack of haggis nachos a friend had told me about.)
> In one of Edinburghs best traditional Scottish restaurants, though, I
> noticed that Cockburns haggis was often on offer. The butchery may be
> tiny but it ships to restaurants and grocers all over Britain. Then I
> heard that Cockburn was the first champion haggis maker in the country.
> I knew I had to visit.
>
> Curious, I dialed the owner with an unusual request: Could I come and
> help you make haggis? Though the company doesnt offer haggis-making
> tours to the public, my experience is instructive because there are
> plenty of places to learn. (See below.) However, getting to those may
> not offer the idyllic train trip I took through Northern Scotland, past
> Inverness and the scenic Moray Firth, to Dingwall.Â*
>
> Like many small towns in Scotland, Dingwall has a train station, a
> hotel, a few Chinese takeouts, more than a few pubs and a local business
> that gives the place name recognition, in this case, Cockburn haggis.
> The morning I navigated its empty streets, I arrived at the small shop
> at just the right time €” the meat truck had pulled up, and Fraser
> MacGregor, a clean-cut, muscular man in a sharp blue-and-white
> pinstriped doctors-style coat, blue dress shirt, neatly knotted tie and
> sleek white fedora, was hard at work hoisting boxes of suet and lamb,
> each weighing many kilograms, into his spacious, pristine kitchen.
>
> Mr. MacGregor, 46, hadnt been at the 1976 haggis competition himself,
> but hes been working at Cockburn since he was 16, eventually buying it
> from Jocky McCallum, the owner who came up with the winning haggis
> recipe. Haggis, Scotlands national dish, has been made and consumed in
> the country for centuries €” long before the poet Robert Burns wrote an
> ode to it 1787. Its the ultimate peasant food €” a dish that involved
> stuffing lungs and livers into a stomach casing ensured that no part of
> the animal went to waste. It has become such a source of national
> identity that in addition to the meat traders competition for haggis
> making, there are others for eating and hurling the food.
>
> A haggis fan himself, having had it for dinner two to three times a week
> since he was a €œbairn,€� Mr. MacGregor prides himself in keeping the
> tradition alive.
>
> And so, even though hes the boss now, Mr. MacGregor says he makes the
> shops haggis every week. €œNormally you start at the bottom and work
> your way up to the top,€� he said. €œBut no, Im still doing the same job
> I was when I was 16.€�
>
> The prized haggis recipe was handed over with the store, and the version
> made today is the one that won. Cockburn haggis is in such demand that
> Mr. MacGregor spends two mornings each week making a total of about
> 1,100 pounds for clients all over Britain and beyond, to countries
> including Hungary and Germany. In January, when Britain lights up with
> Burns suppers celebrating the work of Robert Burns, Cockburn is
> inundated with orders, as haggis is the star of all these suppers. That
> month, Mr. MacGregor makes haggis seven days a week, churning out about
> 15 tons by the end.
>
> I was grateful not to be visiting in January but still, I quickly
> realized I wasnt quite prepared for the task at hand. After handing me
> a white coat and fedora Mr. MacGregor handed me, he asked if I needed
> anything, a cup of tea perhaps, and then we set to work. The process had
> begun the night before, with Mr. MacGregor boiling 220 pounds of lamb
> lungs and livers, which he now started fishing out of a giant silver vat
> with a large netted scoop. Soon, he had built up a huge mound of
> steaming chocolate-brown meat parts on a big trough.
>
> Mr. MacGregor waved me over and showed me the drill: Grab a lamb lung or
> heart, rip it apart with your fingers and pull out the rubbery veins and
> tubes inside and discard those.
>
> I tried to hide my shock €” Lamb lungs? Hearts? Tubey rubbery bits?
>
> With great concentration €” and €œEye of the Tiger€� playing on the radio €”
> Mr. MacGregor quickly set to work. I followed his lead.
>
> I grabbed the first brown piece I could find. I tried not to wince as I
> felt its textu warm, slippery, squidgy. I could not tell lung from
> heart at that point. Having been boiled to softness, it easily came
> apart as my fingers tore through, giving way to meat that was slightly
> rubbery yet also mealy in texture. Locating the veins and tubes was easy
> €” extricating them a little more trying. I felt as though I was trying
> to pull elastic bands out from a rock. Soon, I realized I had to sink my
> nails in and get down and dirty €” deeply clawing my way into each heart
> to grab enough of the tubing to give it a firm yank.
>
> By a rough count, we had a few hundred lamb pieces in front of us.
> Squeamishness was going to get me nowhere. Gradually, Mr. MacGregor and
> I settled into a quiet rhythm, picking up lung after heart after lung,
> until there were none left to de-vein.
>
> Once we had a nice mound of heart and lung bits, Mr. MacGregor mixed
> these in a trough with liquid left over from boiling the lamb parts,
> meal, dried onions and a variety of spices €” the secret recipe. Then he
> ran the mixture through a giant processor, twice, amassing several
> troughs of light brown pulp.
>
> Now this was starting to look more like the haggis Id eaten in
> Edinburgh. When Id first arrived in Scotland and inquired about haggis,
> a local friend, finding my enthusiasm for the stuff amusing, had said,
> €œDo you like porridge? Its like a meat porridge.€� And its true €” while
> haggis at its inception was stuffed into sheeps stomachs and boiled,
> the versions youll find in Scottish homes and restaurants these days
> tend to be a mealy mess of meat, spices, oats and onions all mixed
> together.
>
> Mr. MacGregor now had a big, brown porridge-like pile before him, which
> he fed into a machine that funneled haggis into plastic tubing of
> various sizes €” one-, two- and several-pound versions. But there was a
> special casing for high-end proprietors. For a fancy hotel that had
> ordered a traditional haggis, he disappeared into his fridge for a
> moment, emerging with what looked like a sickly yellowish white plastic
> bag.
>
> €œFeel it,€� he said, smiling. €œThis is a sheeps stomach.€�
>
> My nose wasnt anywhere near his hands but I could already smell it €” a
> rubbery fetid stench, something like melted rubber combined with rotting
> meat. And when I pressed my fingers on the stomach, it felt rubbery and
> wrinkly.
>
> As the haggis meal filled it, puffing it up, the stench of the stomach
> grew even stronger. When Mr. MacGregor saw me grimacing, he confessed
> that it wasnt his favorite way of having haggis. €œI always eat it
> packed in tubes.€�
>
> After that, the bulk of our job was done €” Mr. MacGregor and I loaded
> the haggis tubes into the boiler and 30 minutes later, we were hauling
> out our dark-chocolate-brown bounty. Since some of them had split open
> during boiling, Mr. MacGregor nudged me to dig in.
>
> I pinched a bit with my fingers and popped it into my mouth.
>
> On my way to Dingwall, as my train had raced past verdant country
> tableaus and breathtaking waterways, I wondered if the ride itself would
> be the highlight of my trip. Standing in that kitchen, lamb bits between
> my nails and a mouth filled with freshly made haggis, however, I
> realized that the ride paled in comparison. This had made the trek worth
> it. I was so taken with the flavor, I instinctively closed my eyes to
> hold that feeling a little more.
>
> INNARD STRENGTH
>
> Edinburgh New Town Cookery School, 7 Queen Street, Edinburgh;
> entcs.co.uk. Bespoke classes for groups interested in learning how to
> make haggis and use it in dishes.
>
> The Cookery School, Jacobean Corsetry Building, 53 Virginia Street,
> Glasgow; thecookeryschoolÂ*.org. Some classes include segments on cooking
> with haggis.
>
> Cookery at The Grange, The Grange, Whatley Frome, Somerset;
> cookeryatthegrangeÂ*.co.uk. The four-week Essential Cookery Course
> includes a lesson on cooking with haggis around Burns night.

Is The sale of Scottish Haggis still banned in the US?

On 20/12/2014 4:04 AM, Janet wrote:
> In article >, says...
>>
>> On 19/12/2014 2:42 PM, S Viemeister wrote:
>>> On 12/19/2014 1:41 PM, Travis McGee wrote:
>>>> http://www.nytimes.com/2014/12/21/tr...nd-haggis.html
>>>>
>>>>
>>>> In Scotland, Guts, Glory and Haggis
>>> (snip)
>>>> During my five-week stay in Scotland, I would seek it out wherever I
>>>> went ? trying it both in its traditional form, as ?haggis, neeps and
>>>> tatties? (haggis, parsnips and potatoes),
>>>
>>> Neeps are _not_ parsnips!
>>> They're rutabagas/wax turnips/yellow turnips/swedes.
>>
>> Probably what we called "cattle beet" in Suffolk:-)
>> Graham
>
> Nope, cattle beet refers to mangelwurzels not swedes. Cattle are also
> fed the pulp from sugar beet.
>
> Janet UK
>
Note the smiley? I was taking the ****! I am well aware of what cattle
beet are! And since most of my family was involved in agriculture, one
way or another, I am also aware of what happens to sugar beet pulp.
Graham

On 20/12/2014 6:02 AM, S Viemeister wrote:
> On 12/19/2014 9:13 PM, graham wrote:
>> On 19/12/2014 2:42 PM, S Viemeister wrote:
>>> On 12/19/2014 1:41 PM, Travis McGee wrote:
>>>> http://www.nytimes.com/2014/12/21/tr...nd-haggis.html
>>>>
>>>> In Scotland, Guts, Glory and Haggis
>>> (snip)
>>>> During my five-week stay in Scotland, I would seek it out wherever I
>>>> went €” trying it both in its traditional form, as €œhaggis, neeps and
>>>> tatties€� (haggis, parsnips and potatoes),
>>>
>>> Neeps are _not_ parsnips!
>>> They're rutabagas/wax turnips/yellow turnips/swedes.
>>
>> Probably what we called "cattle beet" in Suffolk:-)
>>
> I thought cattle beet was mangelwurzel.
>
Note the replies to Janet and Bruce!
Graham

In article >, says...
>
> On 20/12/2014 4:04 AM, Janet wrote:
> > In article >, says...
> >>
> >> On 19/12/2014 2:42 PM, S Viemeister wrote:
> >>> On 12/19/2014 1:41 PM, Travis McGee wrote:
> >>>> http://www.nytimes.com/2014/12/21/tr...nd-haggis.html
> >>>>
> >>>>
> >>>> In Scotland, Guts, Glory and Haggis
> >>> (snip)
> >>>> During my five-week stay in Scotland, I would seek it out wherever I
> >>>> went ? trying it both in its traditional form, as ?haggis, neeps and
> >>>> tatties? (haggis, parsnips and potatoes),
> >>>
> >>> Neeps are _not_ parsnips!
> >>> They're rutabagas/wax turnips/yellow turnips/swedes.
> >>
> >> Probably what we called "cattle beet" in Suffolk:-)
> >> Graham
> >
> > Nope, cattle beet refers to mangelwurzels not swedes. Cattle are also
> > fed the pulp from sugar beet.
> >
> > Janet UK
> >
> Note the smiley? I was taking the ****! I am well aware of what cattle
> beet are! And since most of my family was involved in agriculture, one
> way or another, I am also aware of what happens to sugar beet pulp.

Some wurzels reading your post, ur less ejicated nor wot you are.

Janet UK