To Bobby, Served On A Silver Ashet

Yeah, I don't know what an ashet is either, you have to ask Mountcastle about that. These are her people, not mine.

Tonight was Burns night here in Eddie Bert, a night that celebrates poet Robert Burns, the dude that penned Auld Lang Syne. The event is observed by partaking in a Burns Supper, which consists of the Scottish classics: haggis, neeps, and tatties. Yeah, so not all Scots are poets, just Burns.

Haggis, for the ignorant among us, is a sausage-type specialty made from oats, sheep innards, seasonings, and onions, etc., and, much like sausage, stuffed in sheep lining. Sounds nasty, but so is your average sausage. Neeps are turnips and tatties are good ol' potatoes.

Instead of going out to a pub to join strangers for dinner, and because we weren't invited anywhere else, we had our own little Burns Supper as a flat.

Here is Cat, Scottish roommate 2 of 2, chopping up some neeps. She also cooked the haggis. She nicked her finger seconds after the picture was taken. Cat is a first year who lives about an hour away by train, so she can take her laundry home whenever she wants (like this Saturday) and I envy her for it. I can understand her English on most days but when she starts talking fast with Jacqueline, I get a little lost. Apparently, her accent changes as she gets more drunk and becomes more and more incomprehensible.

Next is Mags, who's turning 21 very soon. Mags is English, from Cambridge, but has also lived in Spain, Italy, and Jersey, among other classy places, and also spent lots of summers in Martha's Vineyard. She is often my cultural translator (just the other day, Cat mentioned some candy bar I had never heard of, I looked up, slightly frowning, and Mags noticed and immediately explained, "it's like Mounds," a comment I was grateful for.) and pretty much the only person that understands when I say "wicked." Up until very recently, Mags had two boyfriends (now she has none) and that was quite something to watch as she managed the lies and twists that comes from such a position. I don't think I'm psychologically strong enough to handle that. Mags prepared the mashed potatoes (tatties) that we had tonight.

And very lastly we have Jacqueline, Scottish roommate 1 of 2. They say having Scottish roommates is very rare, so I treasure mine very much. Yeah, I think I'm just saying that. Jacqueline talks very fast and knows pretty much anyone that has ever made it into a magazine, no matter how famous or infamous they are. She is a celebrity encyclopedia, it's quite amazing. She's sweet and was not feeling well when I took this picture (though well enough to put on a little makeup for this international audience). She didn't join us for Burns Supper though. Not a fan of haggis.

When Vita L first met the flatmates, she commented, "Wow, you've got good looking flatmates," which really put the pressure on me. I'm sorry to report that I haven't risen to standards.

Ah, right, speaking of haggis. It was my first time trying it tonight. (So that's fried mars bar, check; shortbread, check; and haggis, check. My work here is done, I leave on the next available flight.) It was mealy. And saltier than I expected. And definitely odd. It is sausage-like on principle, but not in texture, because nothing really tastes meaty. And you don't really get a taste of the casing, so there's no tang or crunch to it, it's just mealy. Not nasty at all. But, past finishing the leftovers for tomorrow, I don't think I'd eat it too often. Here's haggis in its early stage of cooking and when it's almost done.
And that's the final product, mashed tatties, mashed neeps, and haggis. And for dessert, I contributed with Scottish Cream ice cream (really creamy vanilla, and delicious) and overpriced blueberries, because we're not in New England anymore.