It’s Burns Night tomorrow and I’ve just discovered a whole section on Scottish delicacies in one of my film star cook books.  Am making Flora’s Nutties to take to Paulette’s where we will introduce 10 year old Shirley to the delights of Robbie and try and make her read out the Address to a Haggis:

Fair fa’ your honest, sonsie face,
Great chieftain o’ the puddin-race!
Aboon them a’ ye tak your place,
Painch, tripe, or thairm:
Weel are ye wordy o’ a grace
As lang’s my arm.

I’ve been thinking about the Burns Night I had with the Scottish fellow when I lived on the boat.  Very lovely it was too, I remember him reading from his book of Burns poetry while I made the Tipsy Laird.  Ah, I do miss those “hurdies like a distant hill”…

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