Monday was Burns night. A tradition where various Scottish foods (and of course Whisky) is consumed in honour of the Scottish poet Robert Burns. Personally I’ve never read any of his stuff myself, although I’m sure we had some readings at school but forgotten all about it.

Burns night is interesting as it’s one of the few British situations where people of all social classes come together and celebrate things, it’s very much a Scottish tradition. Although there are “Burns Suppers” all over the world. A Burns Supper consists of Haggis, Potatoes, and Turnips washed down with lots of Whisky. Usually at the beginning someone toasts the Haggis and then everyone starts eating.

I went through a period of not Haggis for many years and last year had it and really enjoyed it, so when I was at the butcher the other week and they had some I decided to make a purchase. Contrast this to last year when I went to Waitrose and the fact that Turnips are totally different in England asked someone in the store “is this really turnip” and received the type of look a farmer gives a child from the inner city who hasn’t seen a cow or a horse before.

Here’s how things turned out – very nice and lots of nice contrasting (and strong) tastes: