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When I signed up for the Burns' Night dinner at St. Andrews Restaurant, I was pretty excited. Not only would I be able to enjoy haggis and other Scottish specialties, but I would also have a great post for Slashfood. Unfortunately, Monika Bartyzel got here ahead of me and did a pretty damned good job of talking up the wonders of the "Great chieftain o' the pudding race." Still, having spent an evening eating offal, sipping scotch, and listening to highland poetry, I'm not quite ready to give up...My introduction to haggis came on a family trip to Scotland. My mother, who was Jewish and had never quite understood my father's extreme dislike of spices, bought A Feast of Scotland by Janet Warren. As we drove around the countryside, she tore through the tome, alternately giggling, gagging, and exclaiming "You're FREAKING joking!" At the end of all of this, she gazed upon my father and told him that she finally understood his problem. The cookbook featured exactly two spices: salt and pepper, and occasionally exhorted its readers to "add suet to taste." While there is a lot to be said for environment, it was clear that heredity had had at least some effect on my dad's palate.
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