It’s 5 o’clock, and you’re leaving the office in search of some post-work libations and snacks before dinner. You could go the traditional happy hour route — where you’re limited to a few drinks and small bites within a short window of time — or you could up the ante and visit a Japanese izakaya.
Across Scotland and around the world, poetry lovers gather in appreciation of 18th century bard Robert Burns. Central to the menu of all these Burns Suppers is, of course, haggis, paraded into the room on a silver platter.
This Sunday marks the 250th anniversary of the birth of Scottish poet Robert Burns, a night beloved in the hearts of the Scots, but relatively unknown to most Americans. For those of you uninitiated in Burns Night, it is a celebration in honor of good ol’ Rabbie Burns, and, in true Scottish style, it is bathed in whisky and delicious haggis, neeps, and tatties.
It’s probably not going to surprise anyone to hear that one of the things I love about being in a foreign country is experiencing the food. But this simple pleasure became far more complicated when I started traveling with kids. I have tried to raise daughters with a sense of gastronomic adventure — and for the most part they are willing and excited participants in our culinary outings — but when you’re in a different time zone, all bets are off as the crabby-child factor increases with each 1,000 miles you journey from home.
Haggis. For some reason, that word seems to conjure looks of extreme disgust on the faces of most Americans. “Do you even know what it is?” I ask. Or, better yet, in between the “icks” and “ews” I question “Have you ever even tasted it?” Not surprisingly, most people answer with a sheepish “No.” Granted, […]