There are certain things you expect to come
across when you're living in the Middle East. Desert, for instance and camels. However we’ve just found something very unexpected
and definitely out of the ordinary. Think of a little bit of Scotland in the
middle of Riyadh. Then think of being invited to a Robbie Burns Supper. And
then, haggis.
But a Robbie Burns Supper? I assumed we’d
have haggis. It was not something I’d ever eaten, but I did know enough about
it to feel slightly unsure. My curiosity
was piqued, but asking our hosts questions like, “Will you be serving haggis
for supper?” sounded terribly wrong in light of the fact that they own a small
Scottish terrier, whose name is also Haggis. Try thinking of a way to ask that question,
without it sounding like something from an Edgar Allen Poe short story.
In the end, I googled Robbie Burns Supper and realised that there was a very precise and set order of proceedings and that the serving and eating of haggis should be central to the evening. Which was exactly as it happened. The haggis was ceremonially
brought in and our host, resplendent in kilt and appropriate Scottish attire, recited Burns’ Address to a Haggis with
great drama and more than a couple of knife wielding moments. Later, after
Burns’ Selkirk Grace, the star of the evening arrived on our plates, looking
like something out of a Nouveau Cuisine magazine. Served with parsnip and
potatoes, or neeps and tatties to those who speak Scottish, the combination of
flavours and textures was just delicious. (Some of us, dare I confess, might even have had
seconds.)
As the evening went on, the food continued
coming. Our host shared anecdotes about Burns, glasses were raised for toasts
and some of us read our favourite Burns’ poems.
After an enthusiastic rendition of Auld Lang Syne, it was time to push back chairs and walk home. As I walked, I thought that tomorrow I'd look up Burns. I’d find out some more about him and read some poems, particularly one mentioned in passing, To a Louse. There had to be an interesting story behind a poem with a title like that.
After an enthusiastic rendition of Auld Lang Syne, it was time to push back chairs and walk home. As I walked, I thought that tomorrow I'd look up Burns. I’d find out some more about him and read some poems, particularly one mentioned in passing, To a Louse. There had to be an interesting story behind a poem with a title like that.
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