Months ago I'd signed us up for a scotch tasting event for Robbie Burns Day. Technically there is some Scottish in Hubby, although you wouldn't know it. He isn't a crazy Scot, just a little wonky. Last week I was the crazy one and a lot of Scotch was going to help me get over it. This was not a night for the girls.
And yes, there was haggis and the requisite crusty Scotsman in a kilt reciting Robbie Burns. We loaded up our plates with a good portion of haggis, some oatcakes, gravlax, and a wonderful strong cheddar. Being the adventurous eaters we are, there was no hesitation in tasting the haggis. It smelled like a combo of meatloaf and pate, and tasted as such. Considering what it looks like - cooked in a pig's stomach and all - I chose not to photograph it for here. No great complaints, but I wouldn't gush about it. I'd rather have a Valbella pate.
All was going well until one of the presenters suggested that it was very Scottish to pour scotch on your hagggis. Let me tell, that was a bad idea. It took a beer from the Wild Rose Brewery to take that nasty taste combination out of my mouth. Leave good scotch alone and we'll all be happier. As was I at the end of the night.