My first encounter with haggis happened exactly 19 years ago, in the canteen of the University of Leeds. I was told that this is the dish to eat on Burns Night (and, by extension, on Burns Day). As far as I remember, I quite liked it. I can’t say the same about neeps and tatties.
To my surprise, I’ve just learned from the (last year’s, but still, better later than never) Russian TV programme Москва в твоей тарелке (Moscow on your plate) that now you can order haggis, or something looking like it, in one of two Scottish restaurants in Moscow. The programme is presented by Russian poet, gourmand and my old friend Yuli Gugolev. At least, I hope he still is my friend. I last saw him, let’s see, about 30 years ago.
Where were we? Oh, aye. As I was saying, I don’t mind haggis at all. I don’t miss it either. What I do miss though is a Burns Night as it used to be organised by my former employer (typically a week or two after the actual Burns Night): dancing, whisky sampling, food, more dancing, more food and drink, piping of the haggis... actually, skip that, I can’t stand bagpipes... and of course, Address to a Haggis (followed by more food, drink and dancing).
Address to a Haggis
|Роберт Бёрнс, перевод С.Я. Маршака|
Ода шотландскому пудингу «Хаггис»
Fair fa’ your honest, sonsie face,
В тебе я славлю командира