Robbie Burns Night – eat haggis!

Contrary to popular belief a haggis is not a wee furry creature that lives in the highlands of Scotland but actually a traditional cuisine from Scotland made from offal.

Burns night is a special event for Scottish people as they celebrate the bard’s birthday by traditionally having a big supper and enjoying haggis whilst reciting the famous poem by Robert Burns called Address To The Haggis (see below)

If you are looking for an excellent restaurant that has haggis on the menu try The Cambridge Chop House restaurant at No.1 Kings Parade

https://cambridgechophouse.co.uk/

If you are looking for somewhere to buy a traditional haggis head to Cousins Butchers in Newnham. https://www.cambridgebutchers.com/haggis-burns-night-supper

Address to a Haggis Translation

Good luck to you and your honest, plump face,
Great chieftain of the sausage race!
Above them all you take your place,
Stomach, tripe, or intestines:
Well are you worthy of a grace
As long as my arm.

The groaning trencher there you fill,
Your buttocks like a distant hill,
Your pin would help to mend a mill
In time of need,
While through your pores the dews distill
Like amber bead.

His knife see rustic Labour wipe,
And cut you up with ready slight,
Trenching your gushing entrails bright,
Like any ditch;
And then, O what a glorious sight,
Warm steaming, rich!

Then spoon for spoon, the stretch and strive:
Devil take the hindmost, on they drive,
Till all their well swollen bellies by-and-by
Are bent like drums;
Then old head of the table, most like to burst,
‘The grace!’ hums.

Is there that over his French ragout,
Or olio that would sicken a sow,
Or fricassee would make her vomit
With perfect disgust,
Looks down with sneering, scornful view
On such a dinner?

Poor devil! see him over his trash,
As feeble as a withered rush,
His thin legs a good whip-lash,
His fist a nut;
Through bloody flood or field to dash,
O how unfit.

But mark the Rustic, haggis-fed,
The trembling earth resounds his tread,
Clap in his ample fist a blade,
He’ll make it whistle;
And legs, and arms, and heads will cut off
Like the heads of thistles.

You powers, who make mankind your care,
And dish them out their bill of fare,
Old Scotland wants no watery stuff,
That splashes in small wooden dishes;
But if you wish her grateful prayer,
Give her [Scotland] a Haggis!

Other things on in Cambridge …. see link below:-

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