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caddymanD' ye ken what this is a recipe for?
6 medium unpeeled onions, trimmed
50g sunflower margarine
50g organic rolled oats
50g pinhead oatmeal
50g chopped mixed nuts
1 onion, finely chopped
100g mushrooms, finely chopped
1 carrot, finely chopped
200g can red kidney beans, drained and chopped
50g vegetable suet
1 teaspoon yeast extract
1 teaspoon ground black pepper
2 tbs. chopped mixed fresh herbs
pinch of grated nutmeg
juice of 1 lime
1 tbs. Whisky
chopped fresh chives and parsley, to garnish.
Just because it's got oatmeal in it, it isn't a haggis. A haggis has lots of juicy sheep giblets in it1. It is effectively a sheep turned inside out, and stuffed with oats. Hard to make a vegetarian version, really.
Fair fa' your honest, sonsie face,
Great Chieftan o' the Puddin-race!
Aboon them a' ye tak your place,
Painch, tripe, or thairm:
Weel are ye wordy of a grace
As lang's my arm.
The concept of a veggie haggis is a little like rendering Burns' poetry in standard English. You can do it, but it's a bit pointless.
The weekend was spent chez![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
wallaboks for their 5th wedding anniversary. A very good meal on Saturday night featuring a version of the above recipe (from Waitrose, no less). Very tasty. Very filling. Not haggis.
Sadly, I was unable to partake of the whisky itself, since I have sworn off anything even remotely spirit-like since one evening some five years before (this is no coincidence) when, arriving very late at the hotel on the Friday night, I hit the single malts with a vengeance, between midnight and 2.30 am, spending a much longer period after 3.00 am praying to the totem of the Great Porcelain God in my hotel room.
As I recall, it took a full, four-person serving of black coffee, followed by around three-quarters of an hour standing outside in a howling nor'-easter, trying to keep my forehead as close to 0o as physically possible, that got me in any fit state for the wedding later that day. I am told that my hotel room was haunted. If so, the ghost got fed up and left me to my misery, as I was in no condition to be haunted by spirits of the paranormal variety.
As it was, the champagne was the only alcohol I touched for 48 hours afterwards, and then not to drink, merely to toast.
Anyway, back to this weekend.
A good evening, on Saturday, though perhaps the second helping of ersatz haggis was ill-advised, expanding horribly, as it does, when glasses of red wine are added to the equation. To my horror, I had to do without the port when the cheese plate came round since it was becoming rapidly more obvious that the expansionist quatermass-and-the-pit-like properties of the oatmeal still had some distance to run, before they were done.
Oh dear.
Never mind.
Anyway, Sunday was spent largely recuperating, and was interrupted by roast dinner at the local pub. Very nice. I managed to sleep all through the Chelsea-Birmingham game, except for the first two, and last twelve minutes, this missing the goals.
Sadly, too, I missedanubisgrrl's other half: David sans LJ's impromptu meal at the Café Sol. By the time I got back to Clapham it was just before 9 pm and they would have been dining for at least two hours.
Never mind. It may yet be possible to meet up in the near future and wish him well (his visa has come through, see, and he can now live in the US with his missus after some incredible length of time apart).
Oh well. Back to work, I guess.
1 The real McCoy is thus:
1 sheep's pluck (stomach bag)
2 lb. dry oatmeal
1 lb. suet
1 lb. lamb's liver
2 1/2 cups stock
1 large chopped onion 1/2 tsp.
cayenne pepper
Jamaica pepper and salt
6 medium unpeeled onions, trimmed
50g sunflower margarine
50g organic rolled oats
50g pinhead oatmeal
50g chopped mixed nuts
1 onion, finely chopped
100g mushrooms, finely chopped
1 carrot, finely chopped
200g can red kidney beans, drained and chopped
50g vegetable suet
1 teaspoon yeast extract
1 teaspoon ground black pepper
2 tbs. chopped mixed fresh herbs
pinch of grated nutmeg
juice of 1 lime
1 tbs. Whisky
chopped fresh chives and parsley, to garnish.
Just because it's got oatmeal in it, it isn't a haggis. A haggis has lots of juicy sheep giblets in it1. It is effectively a sheep turned inside out, and stuffed with oats. Hard to make a vegetarian version, really.
Great Chieftan o' the Puddin-race!
Aboon them a' ye tak your place,
Painch, tripe, or thairm:
Weel are ye wordy of a grace
As lang's my arm.
The concept of a veggie haggis is a little like rendering Burns' poetry in standard English. You can do it, but it's a bit pointless.
The weekend was spent chez
wallaboks for their 5th wedding anniversary. A very good meal on Saturday night featuring a version of the above recipe (from Waitrose, no less). Very tasty. Very filling. Not haggis.Sadly, I was unable to partake of the whisky itself, since I have sworn off anything even remotely spirit-like since one evening some five years before (this is no coincidence) when, arriving very late at the hotel on the Friday night, I hit the single malts with a vengeance, between midnight and 2.30 am, spending a much longer period after 3.00 am praying to the totem of the Great Porcelain God in my hotel room.
As I recall, it took a full, four-person serving of black coffee, followed by around three-quarters of an hour standing outside in a howling nor'-easter, trying to keep my forehead as close to 0o as physically possible, that got me in any fit state for the wedding later that day. I am told that my hotel room was haunted. If so, the ghost got fed up and left me to my misery, as I was in no condition to be haunted by spirits of the paranormal variety.
As it was, the champagne was the only alcohol I touched for 48 hours afterwards, and then not to drink, merely to toast.
Anyway, back to this weekend.
A good evening, on Saturday, though perhaps the second helping of ersatz haggis was ill-advised, expanding horribly, as it does, when glasses of red wine are added to the equation. To my horror, I had to do without the port when the cheese plate came round since it was becoming rapidly more obvious that the expansionist quatermass-and-the-pit-like properties of the oatmeal still had some distance to run, before they were done.
Oh dear.
Never mind.
Anyway, Sunday was spent largely recuperating, and was interrupted by roast dinner at the local pub. Very nice. I managed to sleep all through the Chelsea-Birmingham game, except for the first two, and last twelve minutes, this missing the goals.
Sadly, too, I missed
anubisgrrl's other half: David sans LJ's impromptu meal at the Café Sol. By the time I got back to Clapham it was just before 9 pm and they would have been dining for at least two hours.Never mind. It may yet be possible to meet up in the near future and wish him well (his visa has come through, see, and he can now live in the US with his missus after some incredible length of time apart).
Oh well. Back to work, I guess.
1 The real McCoy is thus:
1 sheep's pluck (stomach bag)
2 lb. dry oatmeal
1 lb. suet
1 lb. lamb's liver
2 1/2 cups stock
1 large chopped onion 1/2 tsp.
cayenne pepper
Jamaica pepper and salt